


Coffee Stains and Faded Ink

by rocknrollout



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Dogs, M/M, Past Drug Addiction, Past Emotional Manipulation, Sabriel Big Bang 2015, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknrollout/pseuds/rocknrollout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel Shurley is just your average 30 year old, gay, coffee shop owner. He works with his family, makes a decent living, and is generally content with his life. When a gorgeous new customer catches his attention one day, Gabriel dumps a latte down his chest. After that, he’s perfectly content to admire the tall, tattooed and tempting man from afar.</p><p>Until, of course, that man saves Gabriel’s dog’s life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the amazing homoeroticmoose for the INCREDIBLE art accompanying my story, and to the wonderful suddenlyvelociraptor on Tumblr for both beta reading this and listening to me whine about it for months. 
> 
> So, this is my first Supernatural work. Constructive criticism is always welcome but please try to remember that I'm human too and be nice. I worked really hard on this and I hope that you all like it. 
> 
> —RNRO

 

The cold hit town much sooner than last year. The temperature outside had dropped from a comfortable 65 **°** to a bitter 40 **°** practically overnight. Most residents of the town were reasonably pissed about having to put away their shorts and dig out their sweatshirts, but not Gabriel.  
     
Don’t get anything wrong; Gabriel wasn’t _happy_ about the weather dropping to aggravatingly bitter temperatures. No, he absolutely _loathed_ the cold weather. That didn’t mean that it couldn’t be his favorite time of year, though. And it was. By far.

You see, when the temperature outside went down, people’s cravings for a nice, warm drink skyrocketed. They were much more likely to stop by _The Sugar Sweet Café_ to get a coffee and warm up when it was freezing out, than when it was sunny. Overall, the café got great business, _and_ Gabriel was able to bring back their winter specials, like hot apple cinnamon cider and dark hot chocolate with peanut butter. What's not to love?

 _Weeell,_ now that he was thinking about it, there is one _tiny_ problem with winter that Gabriel has never needed to face before.

The cold weather probably meant that the gorgeous stranger with the stunning tattoos, who came into the café every so often, would have to stop wearing tank tops so that he doesn’t, you know, die from hypothermia. Which meant that he won't be able to show off those incredible arms of his. Still, that doesn't mean that Gabriel won't have anything to admire, of course, because there was _plenty_ to look at. Though, it would be hard to live without it.  

The guy started coming into the café a few months ago, and Gabriel may or may not have spilled an old woman's latte all over himself when he first saw him.

Come on, that would be a very reasonable reaction when a fucking _Greek God_ walks into your café. Besides the breathtaking tattoos he had on pretty much every visible inch of him from his wrists to his chin, he was also just really freaking hot. With a jawline that could cut someone, shaggy brown hair that was just begging Gabriel to run his fingers through it, and the most captivating hazel-green eyes, it was no wonder Gabriel had been too distracted to realize that he was dumping half a hot liquid down his apron.

Even with the major attraction Gabriel, very obviously, had for the guy, he still didn't even know his name. And Gabriel knew all of his regulars’ names; like Pamela, the blind woman who managed to squeeze his ass almost every time she came in; or Ash, the partying stoner who always ate half the café’s stock of cookies.

Gabriel had adamantly tried to get to know Tall, Tattooed, and Tempting, but the guy never stayed around for more than a few minutes. He always came in, ordered the same boring coffee with extra milk, and left before Gabriel could even say, "have a nice day." It was unacceptably frustrating.  

“—briel? You with me?”

“Huh?” Gabriel snorted, as he abandoned his daydream with a visible shake of his head. He was sitting on an old stool, behind the main counter in the café; his elbow was on the counter, and his head had previously been resting comfortably in his palm. The day had been rather slow business-wise, and it was almost closing time, so It wasn’t incredibly surprising that Gabriel had gotten a little lost in his thoughts. He turned his head towards the voice; it was Anna, his cousin.

“Need something?” He asked.

“I thought that it would be best to wake you before you started drooling on the counter. Gotta keep the place sanitary,” Anna said with one corner of her mouth quirked up, a hand on her hip.

Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that had been in a lot better shape eight hours ago, and she looked practically dead on her feet, exhausted way beyond what Gabriel would allow. Anna had been working extra hours lately to afford the repairs for her car. Gabriel really wanted to offer to loan her the money upfront and let her pay him back when she could, but he knew that there was no way that would have gone over very well. His little cousin was much too independent to take what she would consider charity.

When Gabriel started this business three years ago, he had no intention of solely hiring family, but the fact was, he had only one employee who wasn’t related to him, meaning four out of his five employees were blood in one way or the other.

There was his younger brother Castiel; and his cousins, Anna, Naomi, and Balthazar. His only other employee was Kevin; the kid was in his freshman year of college and still managed to obsess over getting good grades more than Cas, who was in his second-to-last year of medical school. Also, don’t ask why his family members have weird names because Gabriel doesn’t have a good answer. His older brother’s name is literally Lucifer. He won’t let you call him anything besides Luke nowadays, and for good reasons. It could be hard to be taken seriously when you’re named after Satan.  

“I was _not_ about to drool,” Gabriel insisted, grabbing one of his wrists with the other hand and stretching his arms out in front of him; his shoulders cracked quietly.

Dropping his arms, Gabriel scanned the room. There were a few loners sipping drinks sporadically, as they did something on their phones. A cute hipster couple was making conversation at the corner table.

“You know what, why don’t you head home early?” Gabriel suggested; Anna deserved a break.

The redheaded girl shook her head negatively, sending wisps of hair flying across both shoulders. “I think I’ll finish my shift.”

“I _can_ close up on my own, you know,” Gabriel assured with a light laugh, smirking at his younger cousin, before he continued, “It’s _my_ café, after all.”

Anna sometimes forgot that Gabriel was five years older than her and didn’t need her supervision. Honestly, with the way she acted, Gabriel tended to forget that there was much of an age difference too.

“I know that,” Anna huffed, before insisting, “I still want to stay.”

“Come on, Annie! Go be a normal twenty-five-year-old for once,” Gabriel urged, using the nickname that he knew Anna hated. “Go do something you’ll regret in the morning!” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

One of the loners at the café looked up from her phone, shooting them a confused stare. Gabriel sent her his award-winning smirk and winked. She quickly went back to looking at her phone, while trying to covertly listen in on their conversation.

Anna rolled her eyes, but untied the back of her brown apron and lifted it over her head. “Why do you have to be so annoying?” She asked, flicking Gabriel lightly on the nose.

“Hey, I’m the number one reason you ever have any fun,” Gabriel smirked, “so don’t be dissing the way I accomplish such an _impossible_ feat.”

“Whatever, old man,” Anna replied smoothly. She grabbed her coat and made her exit before Gabriel could say anything. The little bell on top of the door rung quietly as it swung closed behind her.

Gabriel let out a quick exhale of air and stood up, pushing the stool underneath the counter and out of the way. He had another hour or so before closing, which was the perfect time to start cleaning the front of the café. Grabbing a small rag and some all-purpose cleaner, he sprayed down the counter and went to town. As he did the mindless task, his mind began to wander to more interesting thoughts, like Tall, Tattooed, and far too Tempting. And how Gabriel could finally get the guy’s name.

As the blond man was finishing up the counter and about to move onto the unoccupied tables, a customer walked in. She was a tiny, ginger hipster with at least three different nerdy objects on her person. Actually, make that four; she had a Tardis backpack. The girl walked up to the counter gleefully, and Gabriel smiled. He loved people with enthusiastic personalities.

“Welcome to The Sugar Sweet Café, what can I getcha?”    

“What’s the sweetest coffee you got?” She asked, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Hmm, let me think about that,” Gabriel said, scrunching up his mouth in exaggerated thought. He leaned on the counter and flashed the customer a sweet smile, “if you’re looking for the drink with the most sugar to coffee ratio, then that would have to be our large caramel chocolate drizzler. It’s got more cocoa in it than coffee and has a nice caramel drizzle on top. If you want it to be _outrageous_ I can add as many pumps of sugar as you want, as long as it all fits in the cup. There’s really no limit to the tooth-rotting abilities of our drinks here.”

“Oh, I’ll take that!” The girl exclaimed. She pulled off her Tardis backpack and started rifling through it. When she was done, she had a Spiderman themed wallet in her hand.

Gabriel went to make the coffee, if you could even call it that. “What’s your name, sugar?” he asked over his shoulder as he poured in the cocoa syrup, mixing it with the three shots of espresso. “Mine’s Gabriel,” as an afterthought, he asked, “How many pumps?”

“Charlie,” she answered. “And how about...five?”

“Sounds good to me!” Gabriel added the sugar quickly and swirled a stirring stick through the coffee a few times. “So, Charlie, do you just have an _incredible_ sweet tooth or is there another reason for you having me make this wonderful concoction?” Gabriel asked, drizzling the caramel on top in even waves. He capped the coffee and walked back towards the counter. “That’ll be 4.34.”

“This isn’t for me,” Charlie said, handing Gabriel a five dollar bill. “It’s for my friend. He _hates_ super sweet things.”

“Wow. Mind me asking what happened that constituted this amount of torture?” Gabriel asked, handing Charlie her change.

Charlie put her wallet in her backpack and pulled the bag back on. “On my birthday, he taped an air horn to the door-stopper of my office. So that when you swing the door open...” She made the sound of an air horn, accompanying it with a small explosion gesture with her hands.  

Gabriel winced in sympathy. “Oh, that’s _bad_ . And _good_. You better take pictures of his reaction and bring them back here for me to see.”

“Don’t worry, I plan on taking a video!” Charlie laughed. She waved goodbye, grabbed her coffee and left the café.

Gabriel smiled and went back to cleaning tables.      

After the last customers had meandered out, and Gabriel had finished cleaning everything that needed it, he was finally able to lock up and get his exhausted ass home. It was 8:30; the sky was dark and there weren’t many people walking around Main Street anymore. Thankfully, Gabriel only had to walk for five or so minutes to get to the apartment complex he lived in. It wasn’t anything impressive, but it wasn’t a dump either. He lived with Castiel; well, technically Castiel lived with him. They had been living together since Castiel moved out here to go to school and get out from under their family’s roof. It worked out pretty well, because Cas got a stable place to call home and Gabriel got someone to help with rent and check on his dog when he couldn’t.

When Gabriel opened his front door, he was quickly greeted by an overexcite Jack Russell Terrier. “Hey, Chewie,” he greeted, kicking the door closed and leaning down to scoop up his dog. He walked through the front hall and into the living room, accepting doggy kisses along the way. “Were you a good boy while Daddy was gone?”

“He was,” Castiel answered from the couch, not looking up. The younger man had made himself a cocoon of blankets, with a textbook open on his lap. He had a pen and notebook next to him for what Gabriel assumed was note-taking. “I already took him out for a walk and fed him, as I assumed you would not want to after being at the café since six this morning.”      

“You assumed correct, lil’ bro,” Gabriel said, plopping himself on the other end of the couch, the wriggly Jack Russell on his lap.

Rather suddenly, Chewie stopped licking his face, deciding that snuggling with Cas in the blanket mound was a better idea. Castiel looked surprised but not bothered by his sudden cuddle-buddy, and absently scratched behind Chewie’s ears as he studied.

Gabriel was mildly hurt by his dog’s sudden disinterest in him, but quickly got over it and turned on the TV. He was intent on watching some mindless entertainment before he had to go to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

“Balthazar, could you please remind me why I hired you?” Gabriel griped sarcastically, as he handed an old man his hot green tea with lemon. “Have a good day, sir,” he said to the customer with a polite smile.

Once the man had left the café, Gabriel calmly stalked towards his cousin/employee, who was shamelessly flirting with a busty brunette, and rested his elbows next to Balthazar on the counter.

“Sorry, sugar, but Balthy’s gonna have to go _right_ about now, or else he’s gonna lose his job,” Gabriel said with false excitement and a cheeky grin, then finished, “if you’re still interested in that fine piece of ass, you’ll have to come by when he gets off.”

Balthazar guffawed sarcastically at Gabriel’s intense cock-blocking, while the brunette tried to hide her laughter by taking a sip of her coffee.

“I understand _completely_ ,” the brunette said, raising one hand in surrender, “I’ll see you later?” she asked Balthazar, with a suggestive lip-bite. Gabriel absently wondered how she managed not to mess up her lip-gloss doing that.

“Oh yes,” Balthazar replied smoothly. After the busty brunette was gone, he turned towards Gabriel, looking entirely unimpressed. “Was that _really_ necessary?”

Gabriel stared up at him in an are-you-fucking-kidding-me sort of way. “Yes, it was. Now get your over-sexed ass back in the kitchen and start filling out people’s orders before I really do fire you.”

“Yes. Sir!” Balthazar replied sarcastically, raising a hand in salute and marching stiffly to the kitchen.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and went to greet the customer standing patiently at the front counter. The guy had been in the café once or twice, but Gabriel had barely spoken to him. He was wearing a black tank top, even though it was like 45 **°** outside. He had the popular ivy league haircut that a lot of guys seemed to be sporting lately and pretty intense tattoo sleeves. You know, the kind of tattoos that you picture when you think of a scary guy with tattoos: skulls, guns, all of them in black (very different from Tall, Tattooed, and Tempting, who had so many amazingly colorful images) and designs Gabriel immediately associated with old rock bands.

“So sorry for the wait,” Gabriel said with an apologetic smile.

“No problem, man,” the guy said sincerely. “Looks like you need to get yourself some less horny employees.”

Gabriel laughed. “Can’t disagree with you there. So, what can I getcha?”

“Two medium coffees, one black and one with extra milk.”

“Coming right up!” Gabriel went to make the coffees, and as they were pouring, he said, “ _Love_ the tattoos, by the way.”

The guy looked down at his arms as if he’d just remembered that he had them. “Thanks, man. You got any?”

Gabriel put a cap on the first coffee and grabbed the milk for the second. “Nah, but I’ve been dying to get one.”

“Oh yeah? Well, lucky for you I just happen to work at the tattoo parlor, Karen’s, down the street. You should come by.”

Gabriel chuckled lightly at the smoothly placed endorsement; he was no stranger to “casually” bringing his place of business into a conversation. He capped the second coffee and walked over to the counter. “I just might. If I ever find staff that can be trusted to be alone, that is.” He placed the coffees on the counter and accepted the man’s money. “I’m Gabriel. You?” he inquired, after handing the man his change.

“Dean,” the man said, accepting the couple dollars and dropping it all in the tip jar.

“Well, I hope to see you around, Dean-o,” Gabriel smirked, as he closed the cash register.

Dean didn’t look too pleased with the new nickname, but he also didn’t look outright pissed. Which was good. “Oh yeah! I hope I get to stab you with some needles soon,” he said with a grin that was too pleasant to properly match his words. It scared Gabriel just a...lot. Dean picked up his coffees without another word and left.

The next two hours were _busy_ . There was a seemingly endless line at the front counter, and all of the tables were full. Balthazar thankfully did his job exactly as he was supposed to, and kept the small meals they served coming perfectly. _The Sugar Sweet Café_ served burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, and other similar comfort foods, on top of serving about every type of drink imaginable. Gabriel had wanted something to make them stand out in the craziness of Main Street.

Gabriel was alone in the front, so he ended up missing his lunch trying to keep up with everyone’s orders. He pretty much didn’t stop moving until Castiel showed up at 2:00 for his shift. Gabriel had never been happier to see the awkward twenty-six-year-old than that moment. “Cassie! Oh, how glad I am to see you!” he cheered.

The moment Castiel was behind the counter and had tied the back of his apron, Gabriel was handing him plates and telling him which tables needed which meal. Castiel followed his orders smoothly, as always. They fell into an efficient pattern, Gabriel handling drinks and taking orders while Castiel brought the food out.

The rush slowed down to a much more manageable speed around 2:40. Gabriel practically collapsed on top of a stool, putting his folded arms on the counter and resting his head on them. He took a deep breath and sighed, bone-tired and ready for the day to be over. Thankfully, he wasn’t working until closing for once, and would be getting out in an hour and a half. There were perks to having family members as employees; he knew that he could leave early and trust them not to burn the place down or rob him.

“I need a vacation,” Gabriel joked quietly. 

Castiel was standing next to him, mindlessly cleaning the counter. “You would be calling me to ask how the café’s doing within an hour,” he said simply, without looking at Gabriel.

“Yup,” Gabriel agreed with another short sigh; he was too tired to pretend that he wasn’t a workaholic.

“Have you eaten?” Castiel asked, making Gabriel move so that he could clean the spot his arms had been.  

“I had a cookie like an hour ago.”

“ _Gabriel,_ ” Castiel huffed, dropping the cleaning cloth and glaring at his older brother. “A cookie is not a proper substitute for a full meal. Please eat something with actual nutritional value.”

“I’m off in…” Gabriel looked over at the clock hanging above the café’s extensive menu on the wall, “like forty minutes,” he replied, dropping one elbow back onto the counter so he could lean on it. Yes, he was aware that he was exaggerating. No, he didn’t give a shit. “I’ll eat when I get home.”

Castiel gave his brother a blank stare. He looked like he was desperate to point out what time it _actually_ was, but he deciding to keep his mouth shut. He turned around calmly, grabbed a cleaning rag and a spray bottle, and went to clean tables.

“Hey, Chewie,” Gabriel greeted, as he closed the door to his apartment. Chewie was doing his usual excited-that-your-home dance, as he barked, wiggled and jumped up against Gabriel’s shins. Never one to reject affection from his dog, Gabriel knelt down into a squat and ran his fingers along Chewie’s squirming back in short, fast motions. “Oh, who’s my good boy?” Gabriel asked cheerfully, scratching a little harder.

Chewie barked and turned onto his back.

“Do you want a belly rub?” Gabriel asked in a voice that one uses when talking to small children and even smaller dogs. “I think I can accommodate.” Gabriel began scratching the dog’s white stomach with a huge grin on his face. He was never happier than when he got to make Chewie happy.

After a minute or so, Gabriel gave Chewie’s tummy a gentle pat and stood up. He shucked off his coat, walked through the hall and into the small kitchen. Even Gabriel could admit that his little brother was right...sometimes.

Chewie followed closely, knowing that he would be going for a walk soon. Gabriel worked hard, there was no denying that, but he also adored his dog and refused to ever neglect him because of the café. He had never made Chewie go without his daily walks because he couldn’t do it himself. If Gabriel couldn’t make it home that day, then Castiel would walk the dog. If Cassie was also busy then Gabriel had a literal list in his phone of people who lived nearby, that he both trusted and who knew where the spare key to his apartment was.

“I know, Chewie, I’m excited to see you too,” Gabriel said, navigating around his small dog, who insisted on being directly where Gabriel wanted to put his feet. Somehow without stepping on Chewie, Gabriel managed to get to his fridge and pull out a small blue Tupperware of baked zeti he’d made a few nights ago. He put it in the microwave and jumped onto the teeny tiny island in the center of the room.

Once his food was ready, Gabriel ate quickly, ignoring all minor mouth burns in the process. He tossed the now empty container into the sink and grabbed Chewie’s leash. Chewie, who had previously been dozing on the kitchen floor, perked up immediately when he heard the familiar sound of Gabriel clicking the leash’s clip repeatedly. The little dog almost fell over himself as he raced to the front door and sat down, not-so-patiently waiting for his owner.

They left the apartment building and walked down the street, in the direction of the small park a few streets down from them. It was a moderately chilly September afternoon, but Gabriel wasn’t uncomfortable. He did wish that he’d brought his hat as a gust of wind shot needles through his exposed ears.

Chewie stopped them every so often to sniff random patches of grass and then pee on them, but they made it to the park in a short time.  

The park was isolated from traffic fairly well and there was only one other person there, playing a very lonely game of basketball. Gabriel felt that it was okay to let Chewie off his leash. Once Gabriel had removed the leash, his small dog took off into the large field. He had an adorable bounce in his little steps, as he successfully burned all of the energy from being cooped up all day.

Gabriel stood on the edge of the field that was closer to the road, just in case, and watched with a smile. After a few minutes, Chewie came springing back over with a medium-length stick in his mouth, tail wagging furiously. Gabriel accepted the stick and flung it away from him, laughing as Chewie rolled over himself to get to the stick.

“Dagger, get back here!”

Gabriel turned towards the sudden voice, and his heart stopped. A German Shepard was barking wildly and hauling tail towards him, or more accurately, towards Chewie. Now, Gabriel was not afraid of big dogs; he loved all breeds equally. But when a massive dog is coming up on your _very small_ dog, you panic. No exceptions.

Chewie, who had been trotting happily back to Gabriel with the stick, stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the other dog. He dropped the stick in fear and hunched in on himself, shaking like a leaf. No one said that Chewie was very brave, or smart. But hey, Gabriel probably would have done the same thing if a giant, angry man came running up to him. They do say dogs take after their owners.   

Gabriel was terrified. He knew that he couldn’t get to Chewie before the other dog, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to at least _try._ He sprinted towards Chewie’s quivering form, desperate to get himself in between his dog and the potentially violent one. By some miracle, his short, non-exercised legs got him to Chewie first. He dropped down next to him, and scooped his best friend into his arms, cradling the petrified dog to his chest. It took Gabriel a moment to realize that the strange dog hadn’t come near yet. Which seemed unlikely, because that animal had been on a _mission_ to get to Chewie. He also readdressed the fact that he _really_ shouldn’t have made it to Chewie first.

Gabriel glanced towards the direction where the dog had previously been running and laughed. Not because of anything humorous, but more in absolute shock.

The dog was being held down by a _giant_ man. The man was firmly planted on the ground, with the dog sandwiched between his legs. He had both hands on the dog’s scruff and looked like he had remarkable control over the animal. Gabriel didn’t know how the guy had gotten to them in time, or how he’d managed to get the perfect hold on the dog without getting hurt, but he wasn’t about to look in any gift horses mouths.

Another man, much more averagely proportionate than Gabriel’s savior, ran up to them. He was out of breath and holding onto one end of a broken leash. “Dagger!” He screamed, making both Dagger and Chewie flinch. He had a dark scowl on his face, as he stalked over and grabbed Dagger’s collar.

Gabriel’s savior let go and moved aside, letting the dog’s owner take over. Once he seemed to have a strong hold on both his dog’s collar and scruff, the man looked over at Gabriel. He was still kneeling on the ground, with Chewie pressed against him. “I’m..uh, really sorry for this, man. He just really likes to play with other dogs, I swear. I promise that he would never hurt another pup.”

Gabriel didn’t believe him for a second, but since he was still recovering from the heart attack he’d just had, he didn’t say anything.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to, because his savior spoke up. “Try a metal leash next time,” he said, not sounding impressed. He wiped at his jeans, which were covered in dirt and dog hair.

The man nodded once and yanked on Dagger’s collar. “Yeah, I know,” the way he said it made Gabriel think that he’d heard it a thousand times. His nonchalance towards the situation scared Gabriel more than he was able to admit.

The man began dragging the dog away, who still wanted to “play” with Chewie and was trying mightily to get to him.

Gabriel turned slightly so that there was more of his body in the way, should Dagger get free again. Gabriel finally let himself relax after the irresponsible owner and his dog had walked to the sidewalk and were out of sight.

Chewie didn’t seem to want to leave his arms, and Gabriel wasn’t too keen on the idea either, so Gabriel didn’t let go of him as he stood up. He rubbed Chewie’s little back soothingly, giving him a kiss on the head.

Now that all the drama was over, Gabriel was able to get a good look at his savior. The man was tall… like really fucking tall. He was wearing a beanie, which covered a good portion of his head, but Gabriel instantly recognized that face. It was the handsome man with the tattoos. The guy Gabriel’s been admiring for months had just saved his dog’s life.

What a small. Fucking. World.    

“Words cannot describe my thanks for what you just did,” Gabriel admitted, adjusting Chewie so that he could extend his hand in greeting. “I’m Gabriel, and this little guy is Chewie.”

“I’m Sam,” the guy said, shaking Gabriel’s hand. He held his hand out slowly for Chewie to sniff, who perked up a little to give Sam’s hand a few welcoming nudges with his nose. “And it was no problem...really. I’m just glad that Chewie is okay.”    

“You and me both,” Gabriel grinned. “What can I do to repay you?”

Sam looked taken aback by the sudden offer. “Oh-! You don’t have to do anything—” he stammered before Gabriel stopped him.   

“Nonsense!” He insisted, bouncing Chewie in his arms lightly. “You just saved my best buddy’s life. How about I buy you a coffee? I know a great place on Main Street.”

Chewie, having recovered from the traumatic incident, was starting to wiggle in Gabriel’s hold, wanting to get down. Gabriel managed not to drop him as he lowered the dog to the ground. Chewie immediately went to Sam, putting his paws on Sam’s shins and wagging his tail.

Sam knelt down to scratch behind Chewie’s ears and glanced up at Gabriel. “The café you work at?” He asked.

Ooh, so Sam recognizes him? This could be promising. “Nope, the café I _own,_ ” Gabriel boasted, putting a hand on his hip in an overly cocky gesture.

Sam laughed warmly and stood up. Chewie looked incredibly insulted that he was no longer getting attention, and pawed pathetically at Sam’s ankles. “You know what? Sure.”    

Gabriel rolled his eyes at his dog. A small voice in his head reminded him ( _again_ ) that dogs take after their owners; Gabriel kindly told that voice to fuck off. “How about you meet me at the café at 7 on Friday?” He suggested.

“Sounds great,” Sam agreed with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

“What’s got you in such a cheery mood?” Balthazar asked as he watched his boss practically skip through the café. Gabriel had, so far, spent the entire morning with a bounce in his step, taking people’s orders with a huge smile and just generally being way too nice. While Gabriel was never one to outright be rude to customers unless they were dicks, he also never looked so genuinely happy to be taking some snobby white woman’s order.   

Gabriel ignored Balthazar’s comment for a moment, as he handed the middle-aged woman her coffee with soy milk and sugar. Once she was out of earshot, he turned towards Balthazar, who was leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “Would you prefer me to be in a crappy mood and shouting for the whole day?” He pointed out sarcastically.  

“Point taken, but you still haven’t answered my question,” Balthazar quipped, expertly raising his eyebrow. “Did you finally convince some ditsy blonde to help you get over your dry spell?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, pretending that he wasn’t blushing over the fact that he hadn’t had sex in over six months _and_ that Balthazar knew about it. That was the first and last time he got drunk alone with Balthazar. “Why exactly do you need to know?”

“Curiosity.”

Gabriel turned away from his cousin and knelt down to check the stock in the small fridge they had for milk, cream, and everything else that needed to stay cool. Or, at least, he was going to pretend to do that, while he prayed that Balthazar would get bored of him and go away. Sadly, he could still feel the other man’s eyes on the back of his head after two minutes of silence. Gabriel sighed, closing the door to the fridge, and muttered, “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“You know me well enough to know the answer,” Balthazar replied.

Gabriel scoffed and stood up, groaning ever-so-slightly as he forced himself into a standing position. “Will you go back to work and leave me alone if I tell you?”

Balthazar sighed dramatically, looking at the ceiling like this decision was one of the hardest he’s ever had to make. “Fine,” he drawled, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning. “Now, out with it.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes again but started to explain why he was in such a good mood. Somehow, Balthazar didn’t interrupt him throughout the short story and decided to just stand there and actually listen.

“So,” Balthazar said once Gabriel had stopped talking. “He’s coming Friday?” The question held a flicker of dangerous mischief in it.  

“Yes, and _you,”_ he pointed sharply at his aggravating employee, “ _won’t_ be working that day,” Gabriel replied smoothly, knowing exactly what his cousin wanted. That was why he only had Castiel working that night, because the younger man wouldn’t be a complete jackass the whole time and ruin Gabriel’s chances.

“Ooh, but I think that I need to work some extra hours,” Balthazar grinned, as Gabriel scoffed lightly and went to take someone’s order. “In this economy, you can never have enough money. Am I right, sir?” he asked the old man at the counter.

“Ignore him,” Gabriel pleaded with a smile. The old man looked confused but didn’t say anything. “Now, what can I get you?”

Balthazar had blessedly decided to stop pestering Gabriel until the customer had gotten his black coffee and left. As soon as Gabriel had turned back around, though...

“You know, you just might need a step ladder to kiss that moose of a man.”

Balthazar ducked into the kitchen quickly, _just before_ Gabriel flung a wet washcloth at his head.  

When 7 o’clock on that Friday afternoon finally rolled around, Gabriel’s cheery mood had abandoned him, and now he was a jittery ball of nerves and too much deodorant. He had left the café at three to go shower and change out of his gross, coffee-stained work clothes. After practically destroying his poor closet in search of the perfect outfit, and making Chewie nervous, Gabriel had decided on wearing a black, collared shirt and his favorite pair of jeans; they were red, because why should he wear normal jeans when he could wear awesome, brightly colored ones?

Balthazar had not gotten his wish for more hours, and Cas was the only one working that night. By six, the influx of customers had slowed dramatically, and now they were practically empty. The occasional customer came in for a late-afternoon coffee or tea, but they were well spread out. There were so few people coming in that Castiel, who was the biggest “do-not-get-distracted-on-the-job” type of guy was sitting down behind the counter and reading Harry Potter.

Gabriel had been quick to plant his ass comfortably on the front counter. He had one leg crossed over the other, giving off the illusion that he was perfectly calm, as he ran his tongue along the edge of a lidless mocha-chino, licking up the whipped cream overflowing out of the top. As the clock struck 7:05, one of Gabriel’s feet seemed to start shaking ever-so-slightly without his permission. Normally, Gabriel had a strong lock on anything that made him nervous, and he very rarely felt this wired from anxiety. Right now, though, Gabriel felt like he was about to jump out of his skin, and it wasn’t from the caffeine in his drink.

At 7:08, the front door swung opened, the bell on top jingling quietly. Gabriel looked up and let out a silent breath when Sam walked in. He was wearing faded blue jeans with an open red flannel over a black shirt. The shirt was rolled up past his elbows, showing off a few tattoos: three yellow roses, some gears and words that Gabriel couldn’t make out from a distance. When they made eye contact, Sam’s face broke out in a grin, and Gabriel learned that Sam has really cute dimples.

“Hey, Gabriel,” Sam said, walking over. He ran a hand through his hair as strands of brown hair fell in front of his eyes.

Gabriel returned the smile, grinning widely. “Hey there, kiddo,” he greeted, taking a sip of his mocha-chino.

Sam paused for a beat and stared at Gabriel. “...Uh,” Sam laughed awkwardly, tilting his head to one side as he seemed to examine Gabriel’s face. “You, uh, you sort of have something on your lip.” He touched the corner of his own lip, indicating where Gabriel had a white smear of whipped cream.

“Oh? Oh. Shit,” Gabriel muttered, using his tongue to try to get the cream off. _Great start, you idiot,_ he thought bitterly. “Is it gone?”

“No... Uh, here.” Sam grabbed a napkin from the dispenser on the counter. Gently lifting Gabriel’s chin into the light with the tips of his fingers, sending pinpricks through Gabriel’s jaw, Sam wiped the whipped cream off of his face.

“Wow, Samo, at least take me on a date first,” Gabriel joked, resisting the urge to massage the area where he could still feel Sam’s digits.

Sam let go rather suddenly but recovered his dignity quickly. “Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?” he quipped back with a laugh, tossing the balled up napkin into the nearest trashcan.

“Hey, if I remember correctly, _I_ was the one to ask you for coffee. Speaking of coffee, I still owe you one. _So,_ ” he drawled. Gabriel put his mocha-chino down and hopped over the counter. “What would you like? Anything’s on the table, Sambino.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked, with the barest hint of suggestiveness in his voice.

“ _Oh yes!_ ” Gabriel smirked, leaning one elbow on the counter. He could practically feel Castiel roll his eyes behind him, but he didn’t care.

Sam laughed, showing off those adorable dimples again. “I’ll just take a coffee with extra milk, thanks.”

“Awww,” Gabriel pouted dramatically, “Why you gotta be so boring, Sammy?”

“It’s Sam.”

Gabriel was startled from his flirty teasing when Sam was suddenly serious. “Oh. Sorry. I...uh..”

Sam interrupted him quickly, holding up a hand to stop Gabriel’s awkward apology. “No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean for it to come out so harshly. Force of habit, I guess,” he explained. “My brother’s the only person I let call me Sammy.” After a tense pause, Sam smiled.

No hard feelings had been taken and the date could go on.

Gabriel breathed a figurative sigh of relief; it’d really suck to ruin the date two minutes in. “Well, don’t you worry, Sam-a-lam. I’m sure that I can come up with plenty more nicknames for you.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

After Gabriel got Sam his (incredibly boring) coffee with extra milk, they sat down in a corner booth. They both slowly sipped their respective drinks.

“How’s Chewie?”

 _He remembered my dog’s name._ Gabriel’s heart fluttered a little. “He’s good. Not as traumatized as he acted.”

The corners of Sam’s eyes squinted together as he laughed. “That’s good. How long have you had him?”

Gabriel looked at the ceiling, thinking. “Hmm, six years? I think. My brother, Cas, the guy behind the counter,” He pointed over at Cas, who waved without looking up from his book. “made me go with him to a local animal shelter, that’s now gone out of business. He wanted to buy our sister, Anna, a cat for her birthday. We didn’t find a suitable cat, but I did find the cutest Jack Russell Terrier. He wasn’t in the greatest condition: infection near his left eye, rotting teeth, a pretty serious loss of fur, etcetera. We think his past owner abused him, kept the poor guy outside all the time. Long, painful story short, he was set to be put down in a week or so if he wasn’t adopted and I wasn’t about to let that happen to such a sweet dog. So~ I adopted him! Took him to the vet, got everything checked out and nursed him back to perfect health. And he is now my best friend.”  

Sam seemed to beam, his joyous smile blinding Gabriel for a second. “That’s incredible.”

“Thanks, it was touch and go for a while,” Gabriel tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, as sad memories were reawakened. The days where they weren’t sure if Chewie was going to make it. When his brand new companion cried for hours from the pain, and there was nothing that Gabriel could do besides run his fingers along the healthy areas of Chewie’s skin. He had gotten so attached too quickly. The vet had had to remove three teeth and had been so close to taking Chewie’s eye. “But he’s good now; doesn’t even have trouble eating without the teeth we had removed. And only partial blindness in that eye.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“So!” Gabriel clapped his hands together once, desperate for a happier topic. “I take it you're a dog lover?” Sam nodded. “Got any of your own?”

“No, I live with my brother and he’s pretty anti-dogs in the house.”

Gabriel gasped loudly, pressing a hand to his chest. “I am _personally_ offended by that. How can anyone dislike dogs?”

Sam laughed again; Gabriel was pretty sure that he could get used to hearing that laugh. “It’s not that he doesn’t like dogs; he just thinks they're dirty and chew everything.”

“I’d really, _really_ love to argue with that, but Chewie fits perfectly into one of those stereotypes. Little asshole thinks everything is a chew toy, though I will admit that he’s gotten better.”

“Is that how he got the name Chewie?”   

“No, just a happy accident,” Gabriel explained, not elaborating. He just wasn’t ready to admit that he’d named his dog after Chewbacca on the first date. After a short stretch of silence, giving them both the opportunity to sip on their respective drinks (Gabriel’s was nearly gone), Gabriel spoke up. “So, I believe this is the part of the date where you tell me a little bit about yourself.”

“I think you might be right,” Sam agreed. “Well, I work at the tattoo parlor three shops down from here on the left. The tiny place by the convenience store; it’s somehow found the perfect balance between looking like an abandoned building and a sanitary place, where you actually feel safe to have needles jabbed into your skin. My brother, Dean, works there too. Our father, Bobby, owns the place; it’s named after his late wife, Karen.”

Gabriel quirked a subtle eyebrow when Sam said that the tattoo parlor was named after his dad’s wife. Shouldn’t he have said ‘my mom?’ He didn’t comment on it though. Instead, he asked, “How long have you been working there?”

“About a year. I moved to Detroit when I was twenty-three and just recently came back home,” Sam explained. He picked up his coffee cup but didn’t drink from it. He held the brown container in front of his face for a moment, gently pressing his bottom lip against the lid. He seemed lost in thought. “Long story,” he added, putting the cup back on the table. “So, I already know that you own this place.” He glanced around the room. Gabriel followed his gaze, taking a second to appreciate his own style and taste. The walls used to be a pale blue. After the paint had started to peel off in some places, Gabriel had decided to repaint over the summer. Now, the walls were a dark red, which matched the cherry oak tables quite well. “Why’d you decide to open a café? I know that it wasn’t here when I left.”

“I opened it three and a half years ago; used to be a jewelry store,” Gabriel explained. “Dad was pissed when I dropped out of business school to open a café in the middle of Pennsylvania, but dealing with uptight jackasses who think they’re better than everyone else will never be my passion. Which is what two of my older brothers are. They pretty much own Edlund Publishing in New York.”

“They specialize in horror books, right?” Sam asked. “My college dorm-mate was obsessed with one of their series.”

“Bingo, Sam-a-lam!” Gabriel cheered with a smile. “My dad’s the author of this really crappy series of horror novels, Supernatural. He—”

“That was the series!” Sam interrupted, bringing his hand forward for emphasis.

“Oh really? What a small world,” Gabriel mused, not at all bothered by being interrupted. Sam was more than cute enough to get away with it.

“Sorry,” Sam said sheepishly. “She just drove me nuts talking about them all the time. Go on with your story.” Sam took an awkward sip of his coffee.    

“Anyways, Dad opened the publishing company with Gramp’s savings account because no one would publish them for him. Now he’s a multimillionaire and retired. Two of my four brothers, Michael and Raphael, are the heads of the company.”

Sam whistled lowly. “Wow. I’m guessing that that was the career choice your dad wanted for you?”

“Well, no and yes. He wanted me to be his spokesman of sorts. He wanted me to be the face of the company; deal with all the press and new authors crap.”

Sam laughed quietly. “So... you would have been...the messenger of the company?” He asked with a smirk.  

Gabriel groaned and leaned his neck against the top of his seat, palm on his forehead. After a very dramatic moment of silence, he sat up straight and glared playfully at Sam, who was trying not to laugh too loudly behind his coffee. “ _Please_ don’t remind me about my namesake. From all the bible stories I’ve been forced to read over the years, the dude sounds like a total ass with wings.”

Sam put down the coffee and laughed, hands held up in surrender. Gabriel started laughing after that, leaning forward on the table and letting himself get lost in the hundreds of colors in Sam’s hazel eyes.  

The best damn date Gabriel’s been on in years ended three hours after it had started. In the middle of telling Gabriel about his favorite movies, Sam had checked his watch and panicked. He said that his older brother (whom Gabriel had learned was the same Dean as the tattooed guy who came into the café a week back) was going to be pissed that Sam hadn’t told him that he’d be late home. And, just like that, he was rushing out. Thankfully, it had not been before he gave Gabriel his number, saying “we should do this again.”

Oh, they were definitely doing that again. It had only been ten minutes since Sam left, and Gabriel was already missing him. Only a little, of course. Obviously.  

Castiel had long-since left the café, since they close at eight thirty every night; except for finals and mid-terms weeks, when they were open until two AM. There was a college five minutes away from the café and Gabriel knew how to please his largest demographic.

After spending far too much time staring longingly at the café’s front door, he threw his and Sam’s long-since empty coffee cups away and wiped down the table they’d been using. Once he was sure that the café was in perfect condition, Gabriel grabbed his coat and locked up.

“Ah! Fuck!” Gabriel swore as he was assaulted by the frigid wind. On nights like this, when the weather was unacceptably cruel, Gabriel really wished that he had a car. He could probably afford one if he really wanted, but they were too much of a hassle; it’s not like he went anywhere besides the café and his apartment anyways. No, Gabriel decided for the umpteenth time, cars were not worth the few months of not suffering in the cold.

To distract himself from the cold, Gabriel decided to daydream about the past three hours on his walk home. Sam was the first new person in a long time to really keep Gabriel’s attention for more than the time it took him to get them their order. He was smart, funny, and _hot;_ he liked Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones, but preferred the books of both. Gabriel could respect that.

When Sam admitted that he liked Lord of the Rings, it had prompted Gabriel to call him Samwise for the next twenty minutes. Gabriel pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at the new contact: Sam Winchester. Gabriel would definitely look thirsty if he texted Sam not even half an hour after the date. His finger hovered over the text symbol...

Fuck it.

 **Gabriel:** _Did you know that during one of the takes for the Bucklebury Ferry scene, Elijah Wood overshot his jump and ended up in the water instead?  
_ (10:35 PM)

Sam didn’t answer until Gabriel had gotten to his apartment building. He waved to the security guard sitting pensively at his desk and walked over to the only working elevator in the twenty-story tall building. A middle aged woman also got on; Gabriel didn’t have a clue as to who she was. Normally, that would  cause  him to introduce himself, but she didn’t look too interested in chit chat so Gabriel kept his mouth shut for once. His phone buzzed in his pocket halfway to his floor.  

 **Sam Winchester:** _Did YOU know that Orlando Bloom did most of his own stunts and broke a rib in the process?_ ** _  
_** (10:52 PM)  

Gabriel laughed. Loudly. Way too loudly for an elevator at 11 o’clock at night. He winced when the middle-aged woman glared at him over her red glasses. Thank heavens that the elevator decided to let him onto his floor seconds after that awkward interaction. Without making eye contact, Gabriel hauled ass out of the elevator. And as he was walking down the arbitrarily-long hallway, he racked his brain for more random Lord of the Rings trivia. He was not going to Google any until absolutely necessary. He finally came up with one while opening his front door.

 **Gabriel:** _Viggo Mortensen used a real sword instead of the aluminum ones.  
_ (10:56 PM)

The apartment was dark and silent when Gabriel walked in. Chewie wasn’t even running straight into Gabriel’s shins. Gabriel sort of felt bad for breaking the serenity with his heavy footfalls, but he did sort of need to walk through the apartment. Cas was probably in his own room, either asleep or studying, and Chewie was almost definitively passed out somewhere. Gabriel passed the empty living room quietly and went to his own room. The door was slightly ajar, which didn’t surprise him. He slowly pushed it open and saw Chewie curled up on his pillow; his little legs were kicking every few seconds.

Gabriel debated sending Sam a photo but chose not to. Showing the guy your bed (even in a photo where the focus was a really cute dog) after the first date wasn’t very classy.       

 **Sam Winchester:** _Viggo Mortensen bought two of the horses that were in the film; the one he rode and one for a stunt double.  
_ (10:57 PM)

Somehow, Gabriel managed to wrestle himself out of his jeans, into a pair of sweatpants, and simultaneously text Sam back without falling on his face.

 **Gabriel:** _Theoden touching the spears of his soldiers before they charge into battle was Bernard Hill’s idea.  
_ (11:04 PM)

They went back and forth for another ten minutes. It seemed that they were both quite marvelous at spouting random behind the scenes facts about this famous series, until Sam finally admitted defeat.

 **Sam Winchester:** _You were looking those up, weren’t you? Because no one just knows that much random stuff about LOTR.  
_ (11:05 PM)

 **Gabriel:** _I cannot believe that you don’t trust me, Samwise. I’m hurt. Really.  
_ (11:05 PM)

 **Sam Winchester:** _Then explain how you knew that over 100,000 people lined up for the ROTK world premiere in Wellington.  
_ (11:07 PM)

 **Gabriel:** _Because I have a wealth of completely useless movie and TV show trivia at the ready at all times.  
_ (11:09 PM)

 **Gabriel:** _Everyone’s gotta have a hobby.  
_ (11:11 PM)

 **Sam Winchester:** _That’s one way to defend your geekiness.  
_ (11:12 PM)

 **Gabriel:** _Don’t be acting like I was the only participant, Mister!  
_ (11:12 PM)

 **Sam Winchester:** _True  
_ (11:13 PM)

 **Sam Winchester:** _I have work in the morning, so I have to go. Talk to you soon?  
_ (11:14 PM)

 **Gabriel:** _You can count on it.  
_ (11: 15 PM)


	4. Chapter 4

“Ow...ow...ow, _fuck!_ ”

Sam picked the needle up from the woman’s skin, who looked like she was ready to cry. “Need a break?”

The woman, Sarah, nodded tensely. She rested her head against the seat cushion she was lying on, taking slow and calm breaths. She was getting a tattoo of a rather detailed black and white eagle down her left shoulder blade. Anywhere on your back hurt like a bitch, which Sam had warned her about before they had started. Honestly, she was doing a lot better than Sam had expected. She’d only asked him to pause twice during the two hours.

A month ago, Dean had decided to get the brightly colored Gun’s N Roses cross down his back. He’d survived the outlining fine, but only lasted about 30 minutes of shading before he was ordering Sam to “get that fucking tattoo machine the fuck away from him.” Dean still hasn’t let Sam finish.    

Sam patted Sarah’s hip reassuringly and smiled when she turned her head to look at him. “We’re almost done,” he said with a smile and wholesome eye contact. It always worked to calm customers down; Dean called it his puppy-dog look.   

“Really?” The woman was panting and sounded absolutely desperate to be out of the chair. Sam didn’t blame her one bit. He may have over twenty tattoos, but that didn’t mean that getting them stopped hurting.  

Sam nodded sincerely, “You’ll be done in 20 minutes tops.” He pulled his hair out of the messy ponytail he had put it in hours ago and went about fixing it. He ran his fingers through the brown locks once, twice, three times, and then tied it back into the low ponytail.  

“Oh, thank god,” Sarah gasped, collapsing back against the seat.  

Sam laughed silently to himself. He leaned back on his stool slightly to work out the tension in his back; he twisted to the right and heard a satisfying pop. Man, that felt good. Leaning forward for two straight hours worked some serious knots into your muscles. “Ready to keep going?”

“Yup,” Sarah said with some new-found confidence.

With a happy hum, Sam grabbed the tattoo gun and got back to work.

Just like he’d promised, Sam had finished the tattoo in twenty minutes. And after he’d bandaged it and explained how Sarah must take care of it over the next couple of months, he’d waved the woman off to go pay at the front desk.

Sam then spent the next ten minutes with the door closed, doing gentle stretches. Standing up, hands held together behind his back and leaning forward until his nose was inches from touching his knees. Twisting his core from left to right. These were an important part of his routine after doing longer tattoos. Stretching every day was the only reason that he’s not bitching about back pain at night. Unlike Dean, who seemed to be trying to win an award for most knots in one human’s muscles.

Once he felt well and truly stretched, Sam sat back down, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and checked for any messages. One email from change.org that went directly into the trash (he’d signed _one_ petition, and now they _won’t stop_ _emailing him)_ ; a text from his friend Charlie ordering him to have a Star Wars marathon with her sometimes soon; and a text from Gabriel.

The message from Gabriel was a picture of his dog, Chewie; he was holding a massive stick in his not-so-massive mouth, with the caption ‘he’s so proud of his current find that i sorta feel bad taking it from him before we get home.’

Sam smiled. After last week’s date, the two had been texting one another constantly. Sam couldn’t deny that he already had a bit of a soft spot for the small man and his even smaller dog.

He’d been admiring Gabriel’s pretty obvious attractiveness for months now, whenever he went into The Sugar Sweet Café. Now that he knew him a little better, Sam realized how annoying, charming, and funny Gabriel could be. Sam was definitely looking forward to the next time they could meet up.

 **Sam:** _Is it legal for one dog to be so cute?  
_ (10:22 AM)

A heavy fist rapped three times on the other side of Sam’s office door and before Sam could say anything, Dean was walking into the room. “How’d the tattoo go, Sammy?” he asked,  leaning against the wall opposite Sam; there were hundreds of drawings decorating it, all of Sam’s creation.

“I now know that she’s considerably braver than you,” Sam remarked, cracking his neck to the side quietly. “When _are you_ going to let me finish up your cross?”

“When we’re less busy,” Dean snapped, forcing an air of calm. For a guy with more tattoos than years he’s been alive, Dean was quite hesitant to finish up his back.

“I don’t have another appointment until two,” Sam smirked. His phone buzzed against his thigh, insisting that he check it immediately. Pulling it out, Sam saw that the message was from Gabriel.

 **Gabriel:** _He gets in from his owner ;)  
_ (10:30 AM)

Sam scoffed and smiled, rolling his eyes.

 **Sam:** _Oh you wish you were as cute as Chewie.  
_ (10:31 AM)

“Who’s got you so smiley?” Dean asked, drawing Sam’s attention away from his phone’s screen.

“His name’s Gabriel,” Sam replied, putting his phone down on the table to his left. “Owner of the café down the street.”

“Short, quirky guy who acts like he drinks more coffee than they sell?”

Sam mused silently on how accurate that really was. “Yeah; he and I went on a date Friday night. He’s a pretty cool guy.”

As Sam was talking, Dean’s mouth tightened into a straight line and he narrowed his eyes minutely.

“As long as he’s not Ruby,” Dean grunted under his breath crossing his arms over his chest.

“Would you stop bringing Ruby into every conversation we have?” Sam pleaded, barely repressed rage steaming under his skin. Ever since everything went down and Dean dragged his ass back home, his older brother wouldn’t fucking drop the subject. If Sam even looked at someone with the barest hint of attraction Dean would get bitchy. He justified it by saying that he was just looking out for Sam. And with Sam’s track record, there was plenty of evidence to support Dean’s over-protectiveness; that didn’t mean that Sam had to like it. And since this was his first actual connection with someone since Ruby, Sam wasn’t going to let Dean ruin it.

Dean didn’t answer. He choose to leave the room instead, ending the argument with a swift, not-quite-slam of Sam’s office door.

The bell above the front door of the café jingled sweetly as Sam opened it.

The place wasn’t extremely packed, since it was six in the afternoon; only the really dedicated caffeine addicts were coming in for their afternoon fix. Gabriel was busy filling out orders and didn’t notice Sam right away. Or at all. He was too engrossed in making some fancy late for some fancy woman.

Instead of being a dick and disrupting Gabriel as he worked, Sam decided to take a seat at an empty table and wait for either the crowd to thin out or for Gabriel to notice his presence.

After thirteen minutes of playing Tetris on his phone, Sam heard his name being called from across the room. Or, well, not his name, exactly, but one of the many nicknames Gabriel seems to never stop coming up with.

“Sam-I-Am? When’d you wander in?” Gabriel asked.

Sam looked up to see Gabriel leaning over the counter, a plastic spoon in his hand and a smirk on his face. Oh, how Sam wanted to kiss that cheeky grin off of the shorter man’s lips. He’d need to do that soon.

“I got out of work early and needed some caffeine. I would have gone to Starbucks, but I assumed you would have murdered me if I did,” Sam replied, walking over. He was standing in front of Gabriel, off to the side enough so that customers could still approach.

Gabriel made a disgusted face and shivered in dramatic repulsion. _Dammit, he’s adorable._ “You would be right,” he affirmed, wagging his finger in Sam’s face. “Don’t you _ever_ let me hear that you’ve been cheating on me with those corporate ass monkeys in green.”

“I don’t think my taste buds would let me drink anything other than your coffee,” Sam admitted with a smirk, “Speaking of coffee, think I could get one at some point?”

“Well~” Gabriel drawled, looking quizzically at Sam with his hand against his own chin, pointer finger staring skyward. “I _guess_ so. Same unimaginative drink as always?” He asked with a cheeky smirk. He turned around and grabbed a light brown coffee cup.

Sam couldn’t stop his eyes from watching the other man’s hips sway with his steps. “Uhh… Yeah,” he replied after a second of slightly perverted staring.

“I will change your mind someday,” Gabriel promised, ignorant to Sam’s eye-line. He raised his fist high and mighty, pumping it forward in determination. “One of these days, Sammich, you will like something other than a bland coffee with extra milk.”

“Whatever you say, Gabriel,” Sam chuckled lightly, crossing his arms over his chest and watching Gabriel expertly mix together the coffee’s few ingredients. Apparently, Gabriel’s butt wiggles when he was focusing. Sam wondered if Gabriel knew that he did this.

After a moment, Gabriel spun around on one heel and held out the medium coffee. Sam traded a five dollar bill for it and took a cautious sip. When his tongue didn’t immediately burn away, he began drinking the coffee properly.

Gabriel sat down on an old-looking brown stool, leaning his head against his closed fist as he smiled up at Sam. “So, how’s your day been?” He asked.

Sam returned the smile. “Fine,” he replied, pressing the coffee to his lips and inhaling the delicious drink. “I only had a few clients today.”

“Well, lucky you,” Gabriel chuckled. “This place has been _way_ too busy today. My feet are _killing me._ ”

“When do you close up?” Sam asked.

“Nine. And then I have to go be a grown up and pay _bills_ ,” Gabriel bemoaned, blowing out a gust of air to clearly describe how unexcited he was for the task. “Gotta keep this place up and running somehow.”

Sam frowned. He had really been hoping that they could do something together. Hmm. “Well, when’s your next free night? Maybe you and I can plan something for you to look forward to while you’re forced to be an adult.”

That got Gabriel’s attention. He beamed and got off of the stool. “Genius, Samwise. Pure genius. My little sister, Anna is closing up tomorrow, so I’ll be free by around three unless we’re swamped.”

“I have my last client of the day at 2:30 and I don’t know when that’ll be over, but I can text you when I finish up.”

“Awesome. Movie marathon at my place? You bring the drinks and your all-time, without-a-doubt, favorite movie. I’ll supply the snacks and the best movie in existence.”

Sam laughed, already wondering what movie he had that qualified for those categories. He tilted his coffee cup almost horizontally and finished up the last drops of deliciousness, bringing it away from his face with a slight frown. They had really good coffee here. “That sounds great,” he agreed, tossing the cup in a nearby trashcan. “Want me to meet you here?”

“You got it, kiddo.”

** **

**Sam:** _Finally done._  
(5:09 PM)  

 **Gabriel:** _Awesome :D I’m at the park with Chewie. Want to meet me there or at the café?  
_ (5:11 PM)

 **Sam:** _I’ll meet you at the park. See you soon.  
_ (5:12 PM)

Sam wasn’t ashamed to say that he was extremely excited for this date. He also may have almost dropped his phone in his haste to put it in his pocket, so that he could get up and out the door of his office. No one was in the main room of the tattoo parlor, except for Jo, who was sitting behind the main desk. Sam could faintly hear the sound of a tattoo gun coming from Dean’s office.

Before he began his short journey, Sam walked through the narrow hallway to the back of the parlor. There was an old, rusty door barely holding onto the frame; it lead to his and Dean’s apartment above the parlor. There was also an entrance through the alley next to the shop.

There were two turns in Sam’s climb up the stairs; he took them two at a time, eating the distance as quickly as possible. Once he reached the apartment’s front door, he unlocked it quickly and stepped inside.  

The apartment was nothing impressive; one main room that included the living room and kitchen, two tiny-ass bedrooms, a bathroom and one closet for the whole apartment. The place looked worn down and old, but also well-loved. You could tell just from the first moment that you walked in that there had been so many Thanksgivings, birthdays, fights over the remote, Christmases, and other wonderful memories here.  

Bobby, the owner of Karen’s Tattoos, and Sam and Dean’s adoptive father, let them stay there rent-free. Bobby used to live there with them, taking up the main bedroom while Sam and Dean shared the second room for most of their adolescence. He had been forced to move out when a car accident had cost him the use of his legs, and he could no longer use stairs. He now lived in a small house on the outskirts of town, doing the business of the tattoo parlor from there; he rarely actually came in anymore. Dean had lived in the apartment alone for a couple years until Sam had moved back home.

Before getting everything he needed, Sam made a detour to his bedroom. He needed to clean up a little — remove a few socks from the floor and properly hang up his coat- but it wasn’t too bad. It was nothing compared to the disaster area Dean called a bedroom.

Sam pulled the band from his hair and rolled it onto his wrist for safekeeping, throwing a white beanie over the uncontrollable mess instead of trying to fix it. He checked his appearance in the mirror in the bathroom, deciding that he looked presentable.

Sam grabbed the movie he’d chosen from the coffee table and the drinks he’d bought yesterday. Not sure what Gabriel liked, Sam had gotten cranberry juice, vodka, bud light and some actually decent beer. If Gabriel didn’t like any of these, then he was just shit out of luck. He put everything in a bag and left, locking the apartment behind him.      

“Hey Jo, I’m heading out,” Sam said once he made it back downstairs. He put down the bag and grabbed his heaviest sweatshirt from the rack by the front door. He also wrapped a blue scarf around his neck. “Tell Dean that I’ll be home late, okay?”

“Will do,” Jo said without looking up from her hunting magazine.

Stepping outside was better than Sam had expected. It was cold, sure, but it hadn’t gotten too bad yet. It was just beginning to feel like October; there wasn’t even snow on the ground. That didn’t mean that Sam was willing to take off any of his layers. Oh no, he was keeping everything on in case the wind decided to make a dickish appearance.

With Sam’s abnormally long strides, it only took him fifteen minutes to reach the park where he liked to play Basketball, and where he saved Gabriel’s dog from an “overly friendly” dog. When he got there, he saw that it was moderately busy. A teenager was on a ragged, lonely swing set by themselves, holding what looked like a travel coffee mug but almost definitely held something a little stronger than caffeine. Two middle-aged men were running around the small jungle gym with a little girl in purple. An old man was walking his abnormally large dog. And Gabriel was running playfully through the permanently abandoned baseball field with Chewie. He was wearing a purple sweatshirt that hugged his shoulders magnificently. 

After catching sight of the shorter man, Sam lightly jogged over, careful of the liquids in his bag that really shouldn’t be shaken.

Chewie noticed him first and apparently recognized him (or maybe he just really likes other people). The adorable Jack Russell Terrier immediately stopped playing with Gabriel and bounded over to Sam.

Sam placed the bag on the ground and knelt down. Just in time, too, because Chewie literally leapt off the ground and into his arms. Sam caught him, holding the wriggling dog against his chest as Chewie licked his face. “Hey there, Chewie. Are you excited to see me?”

“I see Chewie remembers you,” Gabriel commented from roughly ten feet away.      

Sam looked up, flashing Gabriel an energetic smile. He really loved dogs. “I think so,” he said, running his fingers through Chewie’s short fur.

Gabriel walked over and sat down in front of Sam. He tried to reach for the bag by Sam’s left side but was immediately swatted by the hand not cradling Chewie. “Do you have any patience?” Sam asked.

“Nope,” Gabriel replied without shame, going for the bag again. “Now, what’d you get?”

Somehow managing to move the bag without dropping Chewie, Sam kept it out of Gabriel’s reach. “You’ll see when we get to your place.”

Gabriel groaned and threw himself backward onto the ground. “You’re killing me, kiddo!”

Sam laughed. “Where’d the ‘kiddo’ come from? We can’t be that different in age.”

Gabriel lifted his head to make eye contact with Sam. “I’m 30, you?” He dropped his head back onto the ground with a quiet _thump_.

“I’m 26,” Sam answered. “See, you’re not that much older than me.”

“Still gonna call you kiddo, kiddo,” Gabriel promised, sitting back up and crossing his legs over one another, leaning back on his palms.

“Whatever makes you happy, Shortstack.”

“Oh, don’t you _dare!_ ” Gabriel growled playfully, inclining himself towards Sam and pointing an accusing finger at the other man. “I am _average_ ! You, on the other hand, are a _mountain!”_  

“Does that helps you sleep at night?” Sam teased. Promptly, he hid his face from Gabriel’s death-glare behind Chewie's cute face.

“Come,” Gabriel ordered suddenly, and for a second Sam thought Gabriel was talking to him.

Until, of course, Chewie wriggled violently out of Sam’s lap and bounded over to his owner, popping his butt on the ground. Gabriel ran his fingers along Chewie’s spine, smirking like the Cheshire Cat at Sam. “Now that your _fearless_ guard dog is gone, what do you plan to do, Samuel?”

That was the moment when Sam realized how close they were. “Hmm,” Sam pondered with a crooked smile. “How about this?” he asked, leaning forward and placing his lips gently against Gabriel’s.

“That was _so_ cheesy,” Gabriel chided. The blissful smile he had plastered on his face made Sam think that he didn’t mind cheesy all that much. “Now get back here and kiss me again.”

“Ah, home sweet home!” Gabriel bellowed cheerfully as he swung his front door open to reveal the empty apartment.

Sam followed Gabriel inside and closed the door behind them. Pulling off his coat and scarf, Sam hung them next to Gabriel’s winter clothes. And as he was kneeling down to untie his boots, Gabriel was kneeling down to unclip Chewie’s leash from his collar.

“So~ I may have gone a little overboard with the snacks. Just a little,” Gabriel admitted, leading Sam down a short hallway and into the large living room. There were two doors on the farthest wall —probably bedrooms- and an open doorway that lead to the kitchen. On the black coffee table in front of a black leather couch were a _fuckton_ of snacks. A varied assortment of chips, more candy than ever necessary, muffins and cookies that Sam recognized from the café, and some things Sam didn’t even know the name of.

“You think so?” Sam asked sarcastically, with none of the biting edge he reserved for his brother.

He placed the bag of drinks next to the coffee table, since there simply wasn’t any room for them and sat down next to Gabriel on the couch. Chewie jumped up after them and curled up on Gabriel’s lap, burying his little nose in his owner’s stomach.

“Yeah, shut up and show me what you got for drinks.”

Sam leaned towards the bag and pulled everything out. He even managed to find space scattered around for everything —except the six pack of bud light- to go on the table.

“Ooh, good choices!” Gabriel clapped his hands together. “I’ll get us glasses.” With utmost care, Gabriel lifted Chewie off his lap and deposited the dog into Sam’s. Chewie only seemed mildly disgruntled by the change and quickly got over it. Gabriel stood up and walked into the kitchen. “So, what’d you bring for us to watch, Sam-a-lam? Better be good!” He called back to Sam, raising his voice more than was actually necessary.

“The Godfather,” Sam answered, massaging in between Chewie’s ears.

“He’s hot _and_ he has good taste!” Gabriel declared, walking in with two glasses. “Jackpot!”

Sam laughed as a light blush appeared on the edges of his cheeks. Gabriel sat back down and started pouring himself a glass of vodka and cranberry juice.

“What do you want, kiddo?”

“Just a beer.”

Gabriel grabbed one of the beer bottles sitting on the table, pointedly ignoring the bud light on the floor, and used the table’s edge to pop the top off. _That can’t be good for such a nice coffee table._ He handed the beer over to Sam and took a sip of his own drink.

“So, _your choice_ is heralded as one of the best films ever made. Quite a quality choice, if I do say so myself,” Gabriel mused with an air of sarcastic pretentiousness. He took another sip of his drink. “Yet, I see your thrilling, dramatic, powerful movie and raise you Monty Python and the Holy Grail.”

“Also a great movie,” Sam smirked, taking a short swig of his beer.

“There’s no doubt that we both have great taste. Now, all we have to decide is who’s choice goes first.”

After about ten seconds of halfhearted arguing, they decided to play The Godfather first. Gabriel got up to put the disk in.

“And _now_! We watch!” Gabriel bellowed, sitting back down on the other end of the couch. Before he’d sat down, Gabriel had grabbed himself the massive bag of assorted candies. He tore the bag open and pulled out a mini snickers bar, unwrapping it and popping it into his mouth.

Even with the temptation of all of the food, Sam didn’t end up grabbing anything until ten minutes into Monty Python. When Chewie finally woke up from his post-walk coma, the little dog had decided that he wanted to abandon them and go find somewhere else to be lazy. He’d hopped off of Sam’s lap and tottered away, butt wiggling as he went.

Maybe dogs taking after their owners was more true than Sam previously thought.   

Once he was free to move without risk of disrupting the precious dog, Sam finally did something about his rumbling stomach. He leaned towards the coffee table and grabbed himself another beer and one of the bags of chips. The chips were dropped quietly between the two men,

As the movie progressed, Sam slowly lost interest and began focusing more on the attractive man sitting next to him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Gabriel popped his feet up onto the couch and curled in on himself, arms holding his shins to his chest. He rested his head on his knees and shivered once.  

“Gabe,” Sam whispered beside the commanding(ish) tone of King Arthur.

Gabriel turned away from the screen and gave Sam a lopsided, goofy smile. By this point, he’d already gone through probably half of the candy and a quarter of the vodka. He looked about as tipsy as he most definitely felt.

Sam dropped the bag of chips onto the ground with a soft, crickley thud and gestured for Gabriel to come closer. Gabriel did without hesitation, crawling over to Sam and tucking himself in against the much larger man’s chest, angled so that he was both comfortable and could still see the TV. Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s waist, pressing his nose into the soft dirty-blond hair.

Gabriel yawned once and burrowed even further into Sam’s arms. “Thanks, Sambo,” he whispered

 _This is nice,_ Sam mused to himself as he inhaled the smell of Gabriel’s shampoo; it was nothing fancy. Probably just your average men’s shampoo. The stuff you get when you don’t give a shit about how your hair smells. Sam could respect that. Especially because, overall, Gabriel smelled amazing. He definitely used some form of cologne.   

Their date — right now specifically- was suddenly hitting Sam with the somewhat forgotten feelings of how much he loved having someone to cuddle. Ever since he’d left Detroit and those he had come to know there. It was for the best. It will always be for the best. He can never go back. He doesn’t want to go back. How could he? After everything Ruby did to him?

Gabriel pulled Sam’s mind away from the poor train of thought by quietly quoting dialog alongside the characters. “A scratch?” he murmured. “Your arms gone!”

“No it isn’t,” Sam joined in just as the Black Knight replied to King Arthur.

Gabriel looked up at Sam and smiled. “Then what’s that then?” He asked, gesturing towards the ground.  

“I’ve had worse,” Sam said cockily as he ran his fingers through Gabriel’s hair.

“You liar!” Gabriel laughed, forgoing saying the line seriously.

“I would like you to know that you’re a _huge_ dork,” Sam claimed warmly. Gabriel had begun to slip out of his grasp from all of their gesturing, so Sam pulled him in closer, his arm tighter than before around Gabriel’s waist. Gabriel didn’t seem to be complaining, as he stretched his legs onto the rest of the couch, his shoulder against Sam’s chest.  

Gabriel didn’t reply since he’d already been sucked back into the mighty world of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  

Around when the villagers were weighing the accused-witch, the front door to Gabriel’s apartment opened. Both men turned to watch Castiel walk in and shuck off his coat and shoes. Gabriel snagged the remote from the floor swiftly and paused the movie.

“Hey, Cassie, what’re you doing home at...” he grabbed Sam’s wrist to check the time. “...9:36? Decide to keep the café open longer or something?”

“Or something is more accurate,” Castiel replied. He walked into the living room and seemed to balk at the array of barely eaten snacks. He recovered quickly and decided to grab the small container that Sam hadn’t known the name of previously, but now he could read the label --wasabi bombs. “I was spending time with a friend.” And with that, snack in hand, Castiel made his retreat.

“Don’t forget to wear a condom!” Gabriel bellowed after his younger brother.  

Castiel shut the door behind him a little more forceful than truly necessary.  

Sam looked down at the man in his arms incredulously. “Really?” he asked. “Was that necessary?”

Gabriel peered up at him and smirked. “Oh _come on_ , a big brother’s gotta torture his little bro sometimes!” He insisted, sticking his tongue out at Sam. “Besides, practicing safe sex is _very_ important.” He bopped Sam on the nose to really hammer his point home, or maybe just to remind Sam that he’d drunk a quarter of a bottle of vodka alone.

Sam agreed with him quietly and took a sip of his half-full beer.


	5. Chapter 5

Light was peering through the drawn curtains in Sam’s room, staring at Sam’s prone form. The blanket stopped at his waist, his face pressed into the singular pillow on his bed, hands tucked underneath it. Snow had gathered on the sill on the outside of Sam’s bedroom window, as the first storm had recently passed through the town.

Heavy boots stomped down wooden hallways, heading straight for Sam’s bedroom. If that didn’t wake Sam up, then the first banging loudly on his bedroom’s old wooden door certainly did.

“Sammy!” Dean barked from the other side of the door. “You either get your ass up for breakfast or you don’t eat! Pick quickly!” And with that, Sam’s older brother was stomping on down the hall in the other direction.

Flicking on the lamp on his side-table, Sam sat up. He rubbed the sleep out of eyes, running his fingers through his uncontrollable hair. After touching the home button on his phone, he saw that it was 8:49. Dammit; he had no reason to be awake yet. Today was his day off, for fucks sake. He had planned on spending it in bed until ten and then going out Christmas shopping. Sam had already gotten Dean’s, Bobby’s, Jo’s, and Charlie’s presents and had ideas for almost all of the rest of his friends. The only person who he was clueless on was Gabriel.   

They’d been pretty much dating since early October, and Sam thought that roughly two months of kissing that adorable loser meant that he had to get him a Christmas present. He had plenty of ideas --candy, movies, toys for Chewie (which he was probably going to get anyways)- but nothing really caught his eye. Sam was really bad at getting people presents.

Finally accepting the fact that he was going to have to force himself to get up, Sam heaved himself out of bed and into a pair of pants.

“Aha! Sleeping beauty has arisen from her slumber!” Dean mocked when Sam walked into the living room/kitchen. He was carrying a skillet of hash browns over to a set of three plates on the only empty space on the counter. Dean was already dressed for work, in jeans, boots and a black tank top. All of the workers at the tattoo parlor wore tank tops most of the time to show off their tattoos. It was good for business.   

Why three plates? Oh, Charlie’s over. How did Sam not notice her? She was lying on their ratty couch while staring at her phone. Sam sent her a smile, and she threw up a vulcan salute, returning the smile.  

Sam turned back to look at his brother. “Shut up,” he snapped at Dean, walking over to the fridge. He opened it and got out the carton of orange juice. He poured himself a small glass.

“Want peppers on your omelet?” Dean asked, turning towards Sam, pointing at him with his spatula.

“Yeah sure,” Sam said through a yawn, taking a sip of his orange juice. He’d love to get coffee, but everything tastes like shit compared to The Sugar Sweet Café’s coffee; he’ll just have to stop by the café before going shopping.

Dean liked to cook, and Sam could barely cook without burning something, which meant that most days Sam’s older brother was the one in front of the stove. From what Sam could see, Dean was making two omelets, scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast. The hash browns, bacon and toast were already done.

“Don’t you dare,” Dean warned Sam without looking, as Sam reached for one of the hash browns.

“Jerk,” Sam muttered, turning to walk over to Charlie.

“Bitch,” Den replied smoothly.

When she saw him coming, Charlie moved her legs long enough for Sam to sit down, and then threw them on his lap.

“What’s up, bi-atch?” Charlie asked, putting down her phone to give Sam her full attention.

“Not much,” Sam answered, finishing his orange juice in one long gulp.

“So~” Charlie drawled, sitting up on her elbows. “Who’s this Gabriel Dean’s been telling me about?”

Sam rolled his eyes. Of course Dean talked to Charlie about Sam’s relationship with Gabriel. Those two were like bored housewives when you got them alone. “He owns the café down the street."

“The short guy?” Charlie asked.

 _Why is Gabriel’s defining characteristic his height?_ Sam wondered. He’s only an inch under the U.S. average. “Uh, yeah... that’s the one.”    

“Oooh, I meant to show him the video Dorothy got when I gave you that coffee.”

Sam groaned. He hadn’t even realized that the disgusting coffee Charlie had pranked him with had been from Gabriel’s café. Now, though, it wasn’t even slightly surprising; Gabriel was enamored with all sweet things and would be perfectly willing to help torture some stranger with sugar. That coffee, if you could actually call it such, had been revolting; he could practically taste it on his tongue.  

“So, are you two dating or what?” Charlie asked, nudging Sam’s abs with her foot. “Not that I wanna pry or anything, of course, but I totally need all of the details.” She grinned when Sam side-eyed her, annoyed.

“Yeah,” Sam replied simply, ignoring Charlie’s cheekiness. “Have been for two months.”

“Yes! More gay people! Our army is expanding!”

“I’m bi,” Sam reminded her. It didn’t matter that Gabriel was in fact the biggest homosexual Sam had ever met. Gabe hadn’t been able to stop ogling Channing Tatum when he’d forced Sam to watch 21 Jump Street.   

“So?” Charlie asked, pulling her lips to one side and scrunching them together. To her, everyone who wasn’t single was either straight or gay.

Sam rolled his eyes and pushed Charlie’s feet off of his lap. Just in the nick of time, too, because Dean began shouting their names as soon as Charlie’s feet hit the ground.

“Sam! Charlie! Food’s on!” Dean bellowed considerably louder than was even remotely necessary. He was lucky that they didn’t have neighbors.

Charlie bounced up from the couch and ran towards the island separating the kitchen and living room. She grabbed her plate, the one with scrambled eggs and a mountain of toast, and went back to the couch.

By the time Sam had grabbed his plate and refilled his orange juice, Dean and Charlie had successfully taken up the entire couch. He was forced to sit on the floor, leaning against the couch, as the three of them watched one of their unanimously favorite episodes of Doctor Who on Netflix: Blink.

They’d all finished eating by the end of the episode, and as the credits rolled, Sam heaved his body off of the floor and took everyone’s dishes to the sink. When they started living together without Bobby, they’d needed to figure out a new system for a lot of things. After a shockingly minute amount of arguing, Sam and Dean had agreed that Dean cooked and Sam washed up; it was a good system that worked almost all of the time.

Washing dishes had always been soothing for Sam. The repetition calmed him down when he was pissed off or stressed. Finishing quickly, Sam placed the plates, silverware, and cups on the drying rack; they didn’t have a dishwasher in the apartment.

“Hey,” Sam said, getting Dean and Charlie’s attention. “I’m gonna take a shower, then head out to get Christmas stuff.”

Dean grunted so that Sam knew that he’d heard him, eyes still on the TV.

“Say hi to Gabriel for me!” Charlie snickered, beaming up at Sam as the tall man rolled his eyes at her.

Thankfully, it only took roughly twenty minutes for Sam to be clean, dressed and ready to leave. He wrapped himself in his coat and left the apartment with a short “I’ll see you later!” to Dean and Charlie.

Just as Charlie had (more or less) predicted, Sam went straight to the café.He both wanted to see his boyfriend and _needed_ to get a coffee before he fell asleep on the sidewalk.

Castiel was in front when Sam walked in. The morning rush was finally slowing down, and there were only a few people waiting at the counter. Sam got in line, hands in his pockets as he tried to see into the kitchen through the small window on the door. He didn’t see Gabriel.

When it was his turn to order, Sam smiled at Cas, who returned it. “Hey, Cas, can I get my usual?” Sam requested. He’d been in the place more than enough for Castiel to know what he liked.  

Cas nodded and turned to make the coffee.

“Gabriel in the kitchen?” Sam asked.

“No,” Cas answered, stirring milk into the coffee. “He’s at home with the flu.”

Sam frowned. He had joined Gabriel on afternoon walk with Chewie yesterday; he hadn’t looked sick then. “He seemed fine yesterday.”

“I believe that he began feeling unwell around midnight, or at least that is when he was sitting on the kitchen counter with a thermometer in his mouth and a blanket around his shoulders. His temperature was 101.3,” Cas explained, handing Sam his coffee and taking the money. “After taking tylenol to break the fever, he fell asleep. He wasn’t feeling any better this morning, so I advised him to stay home.”

Sam side-stepped so that the person behind him could order. “Okay, do you think he’d be up for some company?” It seemed that Sam wouldn’t be going shopping today. He’d rather nurse his sick boyfriend back to health any day.

“I believe so,” Cas answered, as he began making the coffee for the teenage boy. “If you plan on visiting him, can you make sure that he eats? Gabriel tends to forget about doing such things in exchange for wallowing in self-pity.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sam took a sip of his coffee, turned around, and left the café.

Sam hadn’t gone straight to Gabriel’s apartment. First, he went to the local grocery store to stock up on supplies. Holding a plastic bag in one hand, he knocked lightly on Gabriel’s front door.

No one answered for a minute. He knocked again.

Chewie started barking from the other side of the door, and Sam could hear tiny nails scraping against the wood. Behind that noise, there was the sound of feet shuffling against the apartment’s hardwood floor.

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid dog,” a voice moaned from inside the apartment. Gabriel must be feeling like absolute shit to talk to Chewie like that.

The door unlocked and swung open. Sam smiled but was met with the most _pissed off_ expression the human face was probably able to make.

“What?” Gabriel grouched, looking less-than-happy with being forced to get up and answer the door. Even though he was wrapped in a long, blue blanket, Gabriel was shivering, and his cheeks were flushed pink; well, Cas wasn’t lying. Gabriel replaced the intense frown with a slightly less intense frown when he realized that it was Sam on the other side and not some salesperson. On second thought, Sam was pretty sure that Gabe wouldn’t have complained if it was a girl scout. “Oh... Hey. What’s up?” He asked, leaning against the door, eyelids heavy.

“Cas told me that you weren’t feeling well,” Sam explained. He held up the plastic bag so that Gabriel could see it. “I have chocolate.”

Humming acceptingly, Gabriel moved out of the way so that Sam could enter. After hanging up his coat and taking of his boots, Sam put the plastic bag down and gently grabbed Gabriel’s hunched shoulders. He rubbed along the length of the smaller man’s arms, futilely trying to stave off some of the shivering. “Come on, let’s get you comfortable. Bed or couch?”

“Bed,” Gabriel answered, his voice croaky and hoarse. He shuffled away from Sam with Chewie close on his heels. Sam followed him to the bedroom he’d only been in twice, neither time to do what you’d think.

When they reached the dark bedroom, Gabriel flopped down onto the bed immediately, curling up into a small ball. His laptop was on and open, lightly glowing on the pillows.

Feeling horrible for his sick boyfriend, Sam sat down softly next to Gabriel. He placed his hand on Gabriel’s side, massaging the spot slowly. “Have you eaten?” He asked.

“Nnnnn,” Gabriel moaned.

“Is that a no?”

“Yeah.” Gabriel’s voice was so small, it scared Sam a little.   

“Well, Cas made me promise to get some food into you. Would you be up for some chicken noodle soup? My dad Bobby used to make it for me when I was sick. It’s his wife’s recipe.”

“Sure,” Gabriel coughed, sniffling slightly.

Sam nodded, not that Gabriel could see him, and gave the man’s side one last pat before standing up.

Before Sam left the room, Gabriel asked, “Hey, why do you always say your dad’s wife and not your mom?”

“Oh, um,” Sam muttered, hand on the door nob. He hadn’t actually realized that he did. He’d just never really considered Karen — or anyone- as his mother. “Bobby is my adoptive father. He adopted me and Dean when I was sixteen, after my father passed away in a car crash. Bubby’s wife had been killed five years before Bobby adopted us, so I never really considered Karen to be my mom, I guess.”

Gabriel struggled to sit up. “Oh, kiddo, I’m so sorry if I just opened up some wounds. I... wasn’t thinking.”

“No… It’s ok,” Sam said, smiling wistfully. “I’ve had a lot of years to, uh, get over it.”  

“If it helps, my mom died when I was fourteen. You know… So... I, uh... I know how it feels to lose a parent.”

This was probably the first time Sam had really heard Gabriel sound flustered and uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a slight nod of acknowledgement, since no other words would come to him. “Why don’t you lay back down and I’ll go make your soup. It’ll take a few minutes, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay,” Gabriel said, his voice subdued. He adjusted the blanket around his shoulders and re-situated himself on the bed.

And with that emotional, slightly awkward conversation out of the way, Sam left Gabriel’s bedroom.

When he’d gone to the store, Sam had gotten two bars of chocolate, tea, and all the ingredients for Chicken Noodle soup. And after figuring out how Gabriel’s stove worked, he was able to make a warm but not scalding bowl of soup and two cups of tea. Gabriel could probably —almost definitely- make everything better than Sam, but it would do.     

“Hey, you still awake?” Sam asked, nudging the door open with his foot. He placed the bowl and cups on Gabriel’s side-table and sat back down next to Gabriel.

By now, Gabriel had moved from his ball to the head of the bed. He looked absolutely miserable, curled against a pillow, practically hugging the thing. “Nnnngggg,” Gabriel moaned into his pillow.

Sam ran his fingers through Gabriel’s sweaty hair; he could _feel_ the heat coming off his boyfriend in waves. “Have you taken anything to combat the fever?”

“Cas gave me some tylenol last night,” Gabriel asked, pushing away from his pillow in favor of using Sam’s lap as one. “Mmm, I think it wore off,” he yawned.

“You think?” Sam asked incredulously. “Why don’t you try to eat some soup and I’ll go get you some more tylenol?” Sam gently deposited Gabriel’s head back onto the pillow, which Gabriel vocally detested. Sam left the bedroom in search of medicine.  

When Sam got back, Gabriel was sitting up — well, not _sitting up_ per say, but he wasn’t lying down anymore — as he sucked down the bowl of soup,

“Hungry?” Sam asked, smirking. He moved the laptop to the end of the bed and sat down on the other side of Gabriel. Opening the bottle of tylenol, he waited for Gabriel to stop to breathe.

“Fuck. Yes,” Gabriel answered. He reached for the two white pills sitting in Sam’s hand. After Sam dropped them in Gabriel’s hand, the sickly man took the pills with a spoonful of chicken noodle soup. “Thanks, babe.”

Sam smiled. Gabriel had never called him babe before; he was pretty sure that he liked it. As Gabriel went back to inhaling his soup, Sam gently pulled Gabriel against him again, running his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. It seemed to be helping Gabriel relax.  

Gabriel hummed sweetly, nuzzling his head into Sam’s chest. “You’re the greatest,” he praised, smiling up at Sam like the dork that he was.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the fever talking.”

“No~” Gabriel insisted with a whine. “I really super like you. Like you’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. And you’re super hot.”

Sam rolled his eyes with a smile and kissed the top of Gabriel’s sweaty head. “Well, if it means anything, I like you a lot too.” And he really did. Ever since Ruby, Sam was sure that he’d never date again, but Gabriel really changed that. The man was kind, charming, annoying, adorable, and so many other cheesy adjectives. Sam couldn’t say that he loved Gabriel; it was way too soon for that strong of a word, but he might just be working towards it.  

Suddenly, the door was nudged open, and Chewie bolted in. The dog jumped onto the bed and immediately tucked himself up against Gabriel’s other side.  Gabriel  put his spoon down in the half-empty bowl and gently scratched between Chewie’s soft ears. That seemed to be the dog’s preferred petting spot. “Hey, buddy,” Gabriel murmured, sniffling. “You wanna cuddle with daddy while he’s sick?”

Chewie panted and looked up at Gabriel when he realized that his owner was talking to him, tongue lolling to one side. When Gabriel stopped petting him to keep eating his soup, Chewie was not pleased, pushing at Gabriel’s hand with his nose to get more love and attention from his owner.

“Okay, okay,” Gabriel grumbled, dropping his spoon in order to stop Chewie from tipping the whole bowl over.

“Here, let me,” Sam offered, taking the bowl from Gabriel and spooning out some soup. He gestured for Gabriel to open his mouth, which the other man _did not_ look excited about.

“Last time I checked, kiddo, I can feed myse—” Gabriel stopped abruptly, when Sam shoved the spoon into his mouth. “Hey!” He grouched after swallowing. “Rude.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Sam smiled, feeding Gabriel another spoonful of soup. This time, Gabriel didn’t fight it.

Around the last few spoonfuls of soup, Gabriel started to yawn. By the time the soup was gone and Sam had placed the bowl on the side table, Chewie was out cold and Gabriel wasn’t far behind him.

“Go to sleep,” Sam whispered in Gabriel’s ear, adjusting the blanket to cover more of Gabriel’s body and wrapping his arm around the shorter man. “You need it.

Gabriel muttered something unintelligible and pressed his face into Sam’s chest.


	6. Chapter 6

Gabriel started feeling 100% again after four days with a fever, and another day of general aches and pains and a lot of complaining. Sam and Gabriel decided to celebrate Gabriel’s newfound health by going out on a date. After the magical, cliche wonders of dinner and a movie, they were standing outside the local theater, huddled together to stay warm. They seemed to be more or less sharing Sam’s coat, Gabriel pressed tightly against the taller man’s broad chest and Sam’s arms wrapped around Gabriel’s waist, pulling the coat’s edges around with him as much as possible.

“Want to head back to my place?” Gabriel asked after a few minutes of more or less comfortable cuddling. He looked up at Sam, smiling.

“Sure,” Sam said, leaning down to kiss Gabriel once before grabbing his hand and leading him down the sidewalk; they didn’t stray far from each other though. It was _really fucking cold_ outside and neither man was all that willing to separate from the other’s body heat.

They walked quickly back to Gabriel’s apartment, which was two long-ass blocks down from the theater. When Gabriel’s front door was shut behind them, Sam did quick work to slam Gabriel against the nearest wall.

Forcing Gabriel’s heavy coat off, Sam pressed his lips to Gabriel’s. “Cas home?” he asked, pulling his own coat off and dropping it on the floor next to them.

Gabriel reacted with equal fervor, pulling at Sam’s bottom lip. “Don’t think s— Chewie, fuck off!” Gabriel replied, pushing his overexcited dog, who was jumping at their legs, away with the side of his boot.  

Sam had to pull away from Gabriel’s lips because he was laughing so hard. Gabriel refused to admit that he whined a little. Sam peered down at Chewie with a smirk; the little dog was sitting on his butt, staring up at them, tail wagging furiously.

“I think someone wants your attention,” Sam mused, glancing over at Gabriel, who halfheartedly scowled down at his adorable dog. This was not a problem Gabriel had expected to face; he hadn’t thought that his dog would be such a huge cockblock.

Chewie’s little head cocked to one side. Again, he lept up to plant his front paws on Gabriel’s shins, but this time Gabriel maneuvered so Chewie missed him and landed back on the floor. The little dog didn’t look happy.  

“He won't stop until there’s a closed door between us and him, you know?” Gabriel told Sam.   

“You’re probably right,” Sam said. And with that, he grabbed Gabriel and pulled him closer, their bodies connected chest to groin. “We’ll just have to go where he can’t get us.”

“Ooh, Sambino, I had no idea that you were such a player,” Gabriel laughed, trying to hide how aroused that one move made him. If this was how the night was going to go, then Gabriel was thoroughly fucked. Literally.

Hehe.  

Gabriel led Sam to his bedroom, opening the door and inviting the taller man in. He managed to close it swiftly before Chewie could charge in. He could hear his pathetic dog whimper from the other side of the door. 

Sam stood in the center of the room, staring at the bed. After thoroughly turning Gabriel on, he suddenly looked like he was having second thoughts

“Before you chew _through_ your lip, do you want to stop?” Gabriel asked. “We can just make out and fall asleep if you’d prefer that.

Sam glanced at the bed before meeting Gabriel’s gaze. “No,” he smiled. “I’m good.”

Gabriel took a step closer. “You sure? No hard feelings if you want to stop.” And after a beat, he added, “No pun intended.”

“Wha—? Ohh! Ha. Yeah, I’m sure,” Sam said, and this time he seemed sure. He was even smiling.

“Okay.” Gabriel took a step forward and got into Sam’s space. “Remember, you can call this off at anytime, kiddo.”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me?” Sam asked, pulling Gabriel off his feet and pressing their lips together. “Much better,” he murmured as Gabriel gaped up at him.

“This height difference is _so_ unfair.”

A lot of awkward tugging and almost a black eye later, they were both lying on Gabriel’s bed in just their underwear. Gabriel was sitting on Sam’s hips, staring lustfully at the other man’s body. This was the first time Gabriel had seen Sam naked and, oh boy, was it impressive. And his _tattoos._ Holy shit, they were gorgeous. Gabriel hadn’t seen all of them up close yet, and he was really taken away.

Sam had sleeves on both arms. The right shoulder and bicep had a huge, grey skull with its mouth gaping open in a scream. Black smoke billowed from inside it’s mouth, curling down Sam’s arm all the way down to his forearm; it also went across his chest, slowly fading to nothing. On his right forearm, he had a gun — Gabriel was pretty sure that it was a colt- firing a small bullet that sat on his wrist. The smoke coiled around it until it stopped right before the bullet. His other arm was covered in six bright, yellow roses with vibrant green leaves connecting them. Small gears were spaced artistically around the roses, one or two near each flower. His left forearm had a broken clock on it in black, the pieces falling down his arm as if they were falling into his hand.  He also had a few tattoos on his chest, though he wasn’t covered in them. There was this design in black that sort of looked like the sun over his left pec with a Calligraphy D in the middle. And on his lower left ribs was a very detailed, bright red ruby.      

“Gabe, my eyes are up here.”

Gabriel tore his gaze away from the ink and looked up at Sam’s face.

Sam was smirking like an asshole at him. “You like what you see?”

“Very much so,” Gabriel replied. He braced his hands on Sam’s chest, and leaned forward. This position allowed him to plant a kiss against Sam’s lips, effectively restarting the fun.

“Can you describe the tattoos for me? Why you got ‘em?” Gabriel asked as they were enjoying post-coital bliss cuddled up beneath his blanket.

“Uh, yeah sure. My first tattoo was the sun with the D in it. I got it when I left home for college. Dean has the same one in the same place, but his has an S in the middle. Kinda cheesy, but I love it. My second was the roses and gears; I got them to honor my parents. My mom; she, uh, she died in a house fire when I was six months old—”

“Sam I’m so—”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve had plenty of time to mourn her. That’s why I got the six yellow roses. And my dad; well, he loved cars so I put 16 gears with the roses.”

“Aww.”

“My third tattoo was the clock. I got it in college; there’s no real story to it. I just liked the design at the time. Still do. My fourth was the skull. I got it while I was in detroit; my...girlfriend at the time convinced me to get it. I’m just glad that I still like it.”

“Ooh, girlfriend? Do tell,” Gabriel goaded kindly, poking at Sam’s ribs.

“I, uh, I’d rather, uh....it’s a long story.”

“Mm, ok!” Gabriel accepted it quickly. They hadn’t been dating nearly long enough for him to expect Sam to just dish out all of his dirty secrets. He’d give the man time. “Want to keep telling me about the tattoos?"

“Oh, yeah sure. So, my fifth one was, uh...the ruby. And, well, my ex-girlfriend made me get that one too. Her name was Ruby. She, uh...”

“Sam-a-lam, you don’t need to tell me anything if you’re not ready. It’s cool.” Gabriel leaned up to kiss Sam.

Sam smiled into the kiss. “My sixth was the colt,” he said, pulling his head away from Gabriel. “That’s my adoptive dad’s favorite gun.”

Gabriel made a happy sort of noise, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Sam’s waist and pressing his nose into Sam’s pulse. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired as fuck.”

“Yeah, me too,” Sam said, securing his own hold around Gabriel. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Did you actually just blue shell me on our date, you fucker?” Gabriel growled from his side of the couch, sparing a moment to glare at Sam.

“All’s fair in love and war, babe,” Sam grinned, bumping Gabriel’s arm slightly as Mario flew past Bowser, putting Sam in first place.

They were at Sam’s apartment, since Castiel had someone over and Dean was out for the night. Once he saw the Wii sitting by Sam’s TV, he insisted that they play something. So far, they had played Super Mario Galaxy, Lego Batman, and now they were battling it out in Mario Kart. Gabriel had been keeping a pretty steady lead so far; not anymore.

As they were finishing up the last lap, Gabriel started to get vocally frustrated. “Fuuuck. Fuck you, fuck this, fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he whined, leaning into every turn of his controller like it would help him play. “FUCK!” He screeched when Sam crossed the finish line half a second before him. Gabriel dropped his controller in frustration. 

“A little competitive?” Sam asked, leaning back against the sofa and smirking over at his fuming boyfriend. Gabriel looked adorable enraged; he was like a angry puppy, yipping at Sam's heels. 

“Fuck you~” Gabriel whined, tilting his body so that he could push at Sam’s hip with the heel of his sock-clad foot. He didn’t really move Sam much, but he did manage to jostle the taller man a little.

Sam laughed, and pushed Gabriel’s foot away from him. Leaning forward, he grabbed Gabriel’s collar and pulled him into a kiss. “Still mad at me?” He asked, their faces inches apart.

“Yes,” Gabriel insisted, glaring at Sam; there was just the tiniest hint of a smile at one corner of his lips. He turned away from Sam and snagged his Wii controller from between the couch cushion. “Round two. Let’s go.”

“I can’t tell if you’re really mad at me or—”

“Round. Two!” Gabriel whined like a petulant child.

“Okay, okay,” Sam relented, grabbing his controller and setting up a new round; they decided to just be the same characters. As the game was loading, he asked, “So what happens when I win again?”

“You won’t,” Gabriel promised, sticking his tongue out at Sam; his eyes were almost closed from all the glaring.

“I had no idea that you were so competitive.”

Gabriel didn’t reply, too busy holding the controlling in a death-grip when the large countdown started on the screen. When the go karts were leaving the starting line, Gabriel pushed Sam’s controller almost out of Sam’s hand.

“You dick!” Sam growled playfully, as he re-situated himself and began to catch up to Gabriel.

Both men were so engrossed in the game and their need to win that they didn’t notice the door to Sam’s apartment open. They also didn’t realize that someone was walking towards them. What they did notice was the large body suddenly plopping itself over the back of the couch and onto them.

“What the hell—?” "Who dare distract—?" Sam and Gabriel exclaimed in unison respectively, turning around to stare at Charlie, who had wedged herself between them and the back of the couch. She was lying down, staring up at them, grinning like the dork that she was.

“Hey~! What’s up?” Charlie asked.

“Uh,” Sam said, looking between Charlie — who was still grinning like the Cheshire cat- and Gabriel — who looked both pissed that their game had been interrupted and startled by the sudden company. “Gabe, this is Charlie. Charlie, Gabe.”

“Hey there,” Gabriel said, moving his arm at an awkward angle around his own body to shake Charlie’s hand. “I do believe we’ve had the pleasure. You ordered a sickeningly sweet drink as a prank one time at the café.”

“Oh yeah! I’m surprised you even remember that. I meant to show you the video, but I just totally forgot.” Charlie started squirming until both men were forced to get up and sit on the floor. She now had the entire couch to herself. “Wanna see it?”

“Hells yeah!” Gabriel said, not fazed in the slightest by his sudden spot on the ground; he did lean a little against Sam, though. Sam didn’t complain.

“Awesome.” Charlie fished her phone out of her back pocket, which had a Tardis case, and messed with it for a second before handing it over to Gabriel.

The shot began in this very living room. Sam and Dean were sitting on the couch, staring at the TV.

“Hey, Sam,” Charlie said on-camera, coming into frame. She must be having someone else film.  
  
Gabriel paused the video and looked up at Charlie. “Are you telling me that I helped you prank my boyfriend before he was my boyfriend?”

“Yup,” Charlie grinned.

“Mhm,” Sam said at the same time, with just a pinch of bitterness in his voice.

“Huh!” Gabriel mused, turning to kiss Sam’s frown away.

He hit play again.

On-screen Sam turned and looked at Charlie.“Yeah?” he asked with such kindness in his voice that it hurt Gabriel to know what was about to happen to him. He also seemed to be completely unaware that he was being filmed.

“I got you a coffee,” Charlie said, handing Sam the coffee. “Just how you like it.”

Gabriel chuckled at the wonderfully false line. He pretended not to see Sam glaring at him.  
Sam took the coffee without complaint, thanking her. Ooohhh, he was about to retract those kinds words. He took a small sip of the coffee, probably testing to see if it was too hot to drink. He made a slightly confused face, but didn’t seem to find anything majorly wrong with it. Gabriel actually hissed when Sam took a giant gulp. You could see the second he realized his mistake, as he spit it out. Not like the spit-take you’d imagine, but more like he was in the middle of a coughing fit, one that landed most of the coffee on his lap.

“Ughhhh,” he groaned, his face contorted his disgust.

Dean, Charlie, and whoever was holding the camera were all laughing uncontrollably at Sam, who looked ready to throw the coffee he was still holding at Charlie’s head. Gabriel couldn’t help but laugh as well.

“God, you suck!” Sam complained, putting the cup down on the coffee table and standing. The coffee ran down his flannel shirt and jeans, making even more of a mess. “Oh— Shit!” Sam said sharply, wiping at the coffee like it would help anything. He looked around the room in exasperation, spotting the person holding the camera. “Did you seriously record this?”

“Oh yes,” the person behind the camera said. “Smile, Sam!”

The video stopped as Sam flipped the camera off.

“Well,” Gabriel said, still laughing as he handed the phone back to Charlie. “That was amazing.”

“I hate you both so much,” Sam insisted as Gabriel and Charlie continued to laugh.

“Liiiiaaar,” Gabriel smirked, getting into Sam’s space and placing a kiss on his boyfriend’s nose.

“You wish,” Sam said, grabbing Gabriel and pulling him close so that Gabriel’s back was against Sam’s crossed knees. He leaned down and kissed Gabriel.

“Ew~! Stop being gross!” Charlie begged, covering her eyes.

“Never!” Gabriel squealed.

Sam wasn’t ready to talk about Ruby with Gabriel for three more months. Gabriel never brought it up, but it had been plaguing Sam’s thoughts the entire time.

They were at Gabriel’s apartment; specifically, in his bedroom watching Netflix on Gabriel’s computer. Cas had forced them out of the living room an hour ago; he was having a “study party” (whatever the fuck that was) with some of his friends from college and didn’t want Gabriel to embarrass distract him.

“Hey, Gabe,” Sam said, pulling one of the earbuds they were sharing out of his ear.

“Yeah, Samshine?” Gabriel replied, pausing the episode of Orange is the New Black and turning his head to look at Sam.

“I. uh,” Sam took a deep breath; no going back now. He knew that Gabriel deserved to know. “You remember how I told you that I dropped out of college and moved to Detroit?” They’d talked about it one night while asking each other random questions. Gabriel had insisted that if they were ever to be dragged onto the Newlywed Game, that they must be prepared.

Gabriel nodded.

“My ex, Ruby, convinced me to. Now that I think about it, I can’t even remember how she managed it, but she did,” Sam sighed, biting his lip.

Gabriel sat up and shut the computer, putting it down in front of them. “Sam, you don’t need to—”

“I want to,” Sam insisted. “You deserve to know.”

Gabriel looked pensive but nodded his head acknowledging. He leaned forward to give Sam a kiss and smiled. “I’m ready to listen.”

After a moment of tense silence, Sam continued. “Dean was pretty pissed, for good reason. I had a full ride at Stanford, and I gave it up for a girl.” Sam dragged his palms down his face, taking a deep breath. “Ruby convinced me to move out to Detroit and we started a life there. I actually met some decent people there, and that’s where I started tattooing as a professional. I’d always wanted to, but Bobby had been against it; thought I was too smart.” Sam laughed lightly, until he remembered how enraged Bobby had been with him. He’s pretty sure the old man was still pissed. “Anyways, I, well, I worked at this dingy, little place that wasn’t even slightly hygienic. And sometime around then, Ruby, uh, she...got me hooked on cocaine.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened in surprise. “...Kiddo...”

Sam couldn’t make eye contact with Gabriel. “Yeah, well, for about a year, I was tattooing people and getting high. I guess that’s always what Ruby wanted; when we were high, she’d...she’d talk about how we were the most powerful beings around. How nothing could hurt us; how we could rule the world if we wanted. And I believed her. It eventually got to the point where I was always high and she tried to convince me to jump off a building with her. I think she was convinced that we could fly. It would have been so easy for her to convince me to do it too. But Dean came to visit before she was really able to convince me. He saved me; got me into rehab and let me move in with him. I’ve been clean for almost two years.”

Gabriel hadn’t said anything yet, which Sam was honestly grateful for. He wasn’t sure that he could keep talking if Gabriel had interrupted him. Even now that the story was done, though, Gabriel still didn’t say anything. He just stared at Sam with his lips parted in shock ever so slightly. Rather suddenly, he lunged forward and hugged Sam. They’ve hugged before plenty of times, but this one was different. It was strong, emotional, and Sam could feel tears dribbling down his cheeks. Gabriel had buried his nose in Sam’s chest, arms wrapped tightly around Sam’s waist.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have been so annoying to your brother on Christmas,” Gabriel muttered, his voice muffled by Sam’s flannel shirt.

 


	8. Epologue

**Three Years Later**

“How much are tattoos at the shop?” Gabriel asked one night, while they were cuddling in bed. They were underneath the covers, both buck-ass naked, Sam spooning Gabriel’s back. Chewie was lying by their feet on top of the covers. On their one year anniversary, Sam had moved in with Gabriel. Cas had decided to move out shortly after. He was working at a clinic in the next town over and had decided that it was time for him to go; besides, he wanted to live closer to his job. Gabriel had insisted that Cas could stay as long as he wanted, but Cas had refused. They still spent Christmas, Thanksgiving and birthdays together and tried to catch up whenever possible.    

“Depends on the tattoo,” Sam murmured sleepily, nuzzling his nose against the hairs on Gabriel’s neck.  The contact made Gabriel shiver. “Why?”

“I’ve had a design in mind for a few years now. Haven’t really found someone I trust enough to stick needles in me; until now.”

“Mmmm,” Sam responded, pulling Gabriel closer; he was always so cuddly when he was tired. “I’d love to do it if you really want one. We can,” he paused to yawn, “talk about it tomorrow. Right now, though, we need to sleep.”

Gabriel turned around in Sam’s arms so that he could tuck himself against the larger man’s chest. Once Gabriel was situated, Sam pulled him close again. They would inevitably shift away from each other while sleeping, but it was nice to just be close for now.

“Okay,” Gabriel said, closing his eyes. "Love you."

"Love you too."

Two weeks later, Gabriel finally worked up the courage to actually let Sam stab him with a needle. He was sitting in the middle of Sam’s office, shirtless and staring up at the ceiling. Sam had already placed the stencil on Gabriel’s collarbone and was currently getting the tattoo machine, which suddenly looked very scary, ready. Gabriel was trying not to look at it.

“Ready?” Sam asked.

“Mmhm,” Gabriel bit out, keeping his jaw locked tightly. He hadn’t thought that he’d be so nervous.

“Gabe, try to relax. The first minute’s going to suck, but it'll get better. Okay?”

“Okay,” Gabriel breathed, inhaling quickly and trying his damndest not to hyperventilate.

After he was sure that Gabriel was ready, Sam got to work. There wasn’t much actual outlining for him to do; the majority of the tattoo was shading, which Sam had warned Gabriel would hurt more.

That hadn’t distilled Gabriel’s desire for the design. He wanted to — well, he wanted to honor his roots and his namesake with it somehow. That was the least he could do, right? And so, he’d chosen a vibrant gold feather; like the wings that Gabriel had always imagined his namesake bore. During Sunday mornings, when his father had brought (dragged) him and his siblings to church, Gabriel liked to daydream about angels instead of listening. Whenever the pastor talked about the angels, Gabriel had sat there, thinking about what it would be like to actually have the wings of his namesake and letting them carry him away from all of his troubles. They would carry him away from his controlling father and overbearing brothers; from a religion he loved but one that could never love him back, for he was a sinner in all aspects.

Against all odds, Gabriel had managed to leave that life and create something magical for himself. He’d gotten himself and his youngest siblings out of that life. Now he has a kickass career and an even better boyfriend.     

“Ow, fuck!” Gabriel cussed, losing his train of thought as the tattooing suddenly became too much for him. It actually hadn’t been all that bad for the first ten minutes, but not anymore.

“Sorry,” Sam said, lifting the needle to give Gabriel a minute to breathe. “I should’ve warned you that going over the collarbone is the worst part. It’ll be over in a few minutes, promise.”

“K.”

Sam patting Gabriel's left hand before getting back to work.

Gabriel refused to look away from the white ceiling. His fingers on the hand of the opposite side that was being tattooed seemed to drum against the dentist-style chair without his permission, to the beat of a song that neither man recognized.

After a solid hour of absolute silence, probably the longest amount of time Gabriel had ever spent quiet, Sam pulled the tattooing gun away for the last time.

“Done,” he announced. He pulled off his medical gloves and tossed them into the trashcan. “Ready to see it?”

“Fuck yes!” Gabriel groaned; he was more than ready to be done with this whole thing.

Sam grabbed the hand-held mirror that was, for some reason, on the table farthest from him and picked it up. “Here you go,” he said, pointing the mirror towards Gabriel.

Gabriel was in awe for a few seconds. The tattoo was gorgeous. “I love it.”

“I’m glad.”  

Gabriel’s tattoo seemed to inspire Sam, and on their four year anniversary, Sam decided to get himself another tattoo. All of Sam's tattoos meant something to him; every colorful blotch of ink told his life's story one way or another. His newest tattoo, though, managed to mean even more than any of the others. More than the one for his parents, or the one he let Dean do. This one was a symbol of more than just a person in Sam’s life. Whenever he looked at it, it would remind him of his past and encourage him to keep moving forward towards the future he hoped would include Gabriel.  
  
This tattoo was simple. He'd shown Dean what he wanted and surprised Gabriel with it during their anniversary sex. Gabriel had looked shocked from where he was lying underneath Sam; tears wet the edges of his eyes as he tried to blubber out words of love and gratitude. He didn't hug Sam, because that would've hurt Sam like hell right after getting a tattoo, but he did kiss him. He kissed Sam like his life's journey condensed into that one, loving kiss. 

The tattoo that Sam had chosen was a large golden feather covering up the ruby on his ribs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Come hang with me at rocknrollout.tumblr.com


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